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HANDBOOK  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


^cellttfl  mux  leWH 


BY 


JAMES   MARK   BALDWIN,   M.A.,   Ph.D., 

PROFESSOR    IN     THE    UNIVETiSITY     OF     TORONTO  ;     AUTHOR    OF 
' '  HANDBOOK    OF    PSYCHOLOGY  :    SENSES   AND   INTELLECT " 


//704 


NEW  YORK 
HENRY    HOLT    AND    COMPANY 

1894 


Ot:i^'  1^02. 


[Copyright,  1891, 

BY 

HENRY    HOLT    &    CO. 
[All  rights  resei-ved.] 


V,  7j 


PREFACE. 


The  present  volume  does  not  need  a  preface.  It  com- 
pletes the  survey  of  the  mind  begun  in  my  "  Handbook 
of  Psychology :  Senses  and  Intellect.'''' '  In  method  and 
scope  my  plan  has  remained  the  same.  The  treatment 
of  this  volume,  however,  is  somewhat  fuller :  since  I 
have  wished  to  remove,  in  some  degree,  the  reproach 
so  often  and  so  justly  cast  upon  the  general  works  in 
Psychology  that  they  give  Feeling  and  Will  summary  and 
inadequate  discussion.  Indeed,  I  have  found  the  field 
so  inviting  and  the  data  so  rich  that  the  self-control 
made  necessary  by  the  limits  of  the  space  available  has 

'  been  more  difficult  than  with  the  earlier  volume. 

V^  This  volume,  it  maybe  said,  however,  jDutstoa  better 

^  test  the  claim  upon  which  the  Handbook  is  written,  i.e., 

K  the  possibility  of  a  psychology  which  is  not  a  metaphy- 

'  sics,  nor  even  a  philosophy.     For  the  phenomena  of  the 

*^  emotional  and  volitional  life  have  not  been  worked  over 

for  purposes  of  philosopliical  system,  as  intellectual 
phenomena  have :  and  for  this  reason,  the  psychologist 
has  in  this  field  greater  freedom  of  treatment  and  a  larger 
scientific  opportunity.  Hence — while  not  laying  a  claim 
to  originality,  which  only  the  opinion  of  competent 
readers  could  make  of  any  force — I  feel  that,  apart  from 
the  general  arrangement  and  division,  certain  chapters 

'  New  York,  Henry  HoU  &  Co.,  1889;  second  edition,  revised,  1890; 
London,  Macmillan  &  Co.,  1890. 

iii 


IV  PREFACE. 

of  this  volume  are  more  independent.  In  other  words, 
the  book  not  only  aims  to  be  useful  for  purposes  of 
university  instruction,  but  it  may  also  be  found,  on  some 
points,  to  make  ccmtributious  to  psychological  dis- 
cussion. The  topics  to  which  I  refer  especially  are : 
"Interest,  Eeality,  and  Belief"  (Chap.  VII),  "Pleasure 
and  Pain"  (Chaps.  V  and  XI),  "  Conceptual  Feeling" 
(Chap.  IX),  "  Suggestion  as  Motor  Stimulus"  (Chap. 
XIII,  §  1),  and  the  theory  of  "  Yolition"  (Chaps.  XV  and 
XVI).  A  point  of  distinctive  treatment  under  the  head 
of  Will  is  the  emphasis  laid  upon  the  analysis  of 
the  "  Reactive  Consciousness"  considered  as  basis  of 
Volition.  Teachers  who  use  the  work  for  a  systematic 
course  of  instruction  may  find  it  advantageous  to  take 
up  the  Introduction  (Chaps.  I-III)  to  the  second  volume 
immediately  after  the  Introduction  (Chaps.  I-III)  to  the 
first  volume,  before  proceeding  to  study  the  Intellect. 

I  am  indebted  for  several  points  of  fact,  made  use  of 
in  the  chapter  on  "  The  Nervous  System,"  to  my  col- 
league in  Physiology,  Dr.  A.  B.  Macallum.  Other  obli- 
gations have  acknowledgment  in  their  proper  places  in 
the  text. 

I  trust  that  the  completed  work  may  justify  the  cor- 
dial reception  which  the  first  volume  has  already  had, 
and  be  of  use  in  bringing  about  a  better  understanding 
among  psychologists. 

J.  Mark  Baldwin. 
Toronto,  September,  1891. 


CONTENTS. 


PART   III. 

FEELIXG. 
GENERAL  INTRODUCTION  TO  FEELING. 

CHAPTER  I. 
The  Nervous  System. 

PAGES 

§  1,  Structure  of  the  Nervous  System.  — General  conception 
of  a  nervous  system. — Nerve-elements. — Combina- 
tion of  elements  into  a  system. — The  receiving  ap- 
paratus.— The  reacting  apparatus. — The  registering 
apparatus, 3-17 

§  2.  Functions  of  the  Nervous  <Sy.s^em.— Fundamental 
properties  of  nervous  tissue.  —  Neurility.  —  Sen- 
tience: integration,  retention,  selection. — Law  of 
nervous  dynamogenesis, 17-38 

§  3.     Kimls  of  Nervous  Reaction. — Automatic. — Reflex. — 

Voluntary. — Negative:  inhibition,   ....      28-37 

§  4.  Principles  of  Nervous  Action. — Specialization. — In- 
difference.— Substitution.  — Specific  connection. — 
Summation, 38-49 

I  5.  Final  Statement  of  Nervous  Function. — Habit. — Ac- 
commodation.— Inheritance, 49-50 

CHAPTER  TT. 

The  Nervous  System  and  Consciousness. 

§1.     Nervous  Conditions  of  Consciousness,         .         .        .       51-55 
§  2.    Sentieyice  and  Sensibility. — Sentience  and  the  sub- 
conscious, .        .         .- 55-58 

V 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


§  3.  Kinds  of  Consciousness  as  dependent  on  Nervous 
Functio7i. — Passive  consciousness. — Reactive  con- 
sciousness.— Voluntary  consciousness, 

§  4.  Analogies  of  Function. — Nervous  retention  and  con 
sciousness. — Specific  nervous  connection  and  con- 
sciousness.— Nervous  summation  and  consciousness 
— Inhibition  and  consciousness, 

§  5.     The  Nervous  System  and  the  Unity  of  Consciousness. 

§  6.     Organic  Tfieory  of  the  Unity  of  Consciousness,  . 

§  7.     Heredity  and  Consciousness,      .... 

CHAPTER   III. 

Nature  and  Divisions  of  Sensibility. 

§  1.     Nature    of  Sensibility. — Definition. — Most    general 

mark  of  sensibility, 

§  2.     Divisions  of  Sensibility, 


PAGES 


58-65 


65-73 
72-73 

73-81 
81-83 


84-87 
88 


§1. 


§2. 


§1. 


§2. 

§3. 
§4. 


SENSUOUS  FEELING. 
CHAPTER  IV. 

Sensation  and  Common  Feeling. 

Sensations  as  Forms  of  Sensibility. — Relativity  of 
sense-qualities:  contrast. — Relation  of  sensation  to 
knowledge.— Exteusity  of  feeling,    ....       89-99 

Common  Sensttous  Feeling, — Divisions  of  common 
feeling. — Organic  feelings. — Cutaneous  feelings. — 
Muscular  feelings. — Kinaesthetic  feelings. — Feelings 
of  innervation. — Sequence  of  innervation-feelings. 
— Nervous  feelings. — Physiological  proof  of  distinct 
common  feelings, 99-112 

CHAPTER  V. 

Sensuous  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

Physical  Conditions  of  Pleasure  and  Pain. — Em- 
pirical characters  of  pain. — Analgesia. — Pain  as 
feeling  and  as  tone. — Relativity  of  sensuous  pleas- 
ure and  pain 11.^-123 

Conception  of  Pleasure  and  Pai7i. — General  con- 
clusion.— Interpretation  of  relativity,      .         .         .  122-127 

Theories  of  Senstions  Tone,         .         .         .         .         .  127-133 

Pleasure  and  Pain  as  Worth, 133-134 


\ 


CONTENTS.  VU 

IDEAL  FEELING. 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Nature  and  Dn'isioxs  of  Ideal  Feeling. 

PAGES 

§  1.     Nature. — Ideal  vs.  sensuous  feelings,  .        .        .  135-136 

§  2.     Division. — Ideal  feelings  as  special  and  common. — 

Ideal  pleasure  and  pain, 136-137 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Common  Ideal  Feeling  :  Interest,  Reality,  and  Belief. 

§  1.  General  Character  of  Common  Ideal  Feeling :  Interest. 
— Physiological  basis  of  interest  and  indifference. — 
Intellectual  conditions  of  interest. — Interest  of  dis- 
crimination.— Emotional  and  active  interest. — In- 
terest of  custom  or  haljit. — Association  and  interest. 
— Definition  of  interest. — Interest  as  ideal  emotion. 
— Interests  vs.  affects, 138-148 

§  2.  Reality -feeling. — Distinction  between  belief  and  real- 
ity-feeling.— Rise  of  reality-feeling. — Rise  of  un- 
realitj'-feeling. — Degrees  of  reality-  and  unreality- 
feeling. — Time  and  space  reference  of  reality-feeling,  148-155 

§  3.  Belief— Donht. — Development  of  doubt. — Resolution 
of  doubt. — Nature  of  belief. — Reaction  of  belief  on 
reality. — Kinds  of  belief, 155-160 

§  4.     Belief  in  External  Reality. — Its  coeffieifuit. — Primacy 

of  muscular  sensations. — Criteria  of  external  reality,  160-163 

§  5.     Belief  in  Memory. — Memory-coefficient. — Completed 

criterion  of  external  reality, 163-166 

§  6.    Belief  in  Concepts  and  Thought. — Thought-coefficient,  167 

§  7.    Emotional  Belief 168 

§  8.  General  Conclusion. — Composite  realities. — Self  the 
ultimate  reality. — Existence. — Relation  of  belief  to 
will. — Definition  of  belief.— Interest  and  belief,      .  168-173 

SPECIAL   IDEAL  FEELINGS. 

QUALITY,   OR    KINDS. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

Division  :  Presentative  Emoti  )ns. 

§  1.     Division. — General  nature. — Kinds,  ....  174-175 

8  2.     Emotions  of  Actrin'ty — of  adjustment — of  lunction  .  170-177 


Vin  CONTENTS. 

PAGES 

§3.    Emotions  of  Content, 177-178 

§  4.     Self- emotions. — Egoistic, 179-180 

§  5.     Objective  Emotions, 180-181 

§  6.    Expressive    Emotions. — Emotions  of    attraction — of 

repulsion,  .         .         • 182-186 

§  7.     Sympathetic  Emotion. — Definition    of    sympathy. — 
Kinds  of  sympathetic  suggestion. — Development  of 
sympathy. — Altruistic  element. — Varieties  of  sym- 
pathetic emotion. — Social  feeling,     ....  186-193 
§  8.     Representative  Emotion, 193-194 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Emotions  of  Relation. 

§  1.    Logical  Emotions, 195-198 

§  2.     Conceptual  Emotions, 198 

§  3.     Construction  of  Ideals. — Nature  of  ideals. — Feeling  of 

fitness, 198-202 

§  4.     Conceptual  Feeling  as  Intuition,         ....  202-204 
§5.     Range  and  Kinds  of  Conceptual  Feeling,    .        .        .  204 
§  6.     Feelings  for  System. — Scientific  system. — Philosophi- 
cal system, 204-205 

§  7.  Ethical  Feeling. — Its  coeflBcient. — Moral  quality. — 
^  Moral  quality  as  harmony — as  universality. — 
Moral  sympathy. — Moral  authority. — Grounds  of 
moral  authority. — Conclusion  on  moral  coeflBcient. 
— Moral  ideal:  ethical  end. — Notion  of  end. — Sub- 
jective vs.  objective  end. — Moral  vs.  natural  end. 
— Theories  of  end. — Happiness  theories. — Utility 
theories.  —  Criticism.  —  Kantian  theory.  —  Intui- 
tional theory. — Relative  theories. — Conclusion  on 
end. — Rules  of  conduct. — Moral  judgments. — Con- 
science.— Ethical  feeling  and  happiness. — Emotions 

akin  to  the  moral, 205-233 

§  8.  Msthetic  Feelings. —  Lower.  —  Higher.  —  Beauty  of 
truth  —  of  character. — Meaning  in  the  arts. — 
.Jisthetic  judgment  universal. — Emotions  allied  to 

the  aesthetic, 233-242 

§9.     General  Table  of  Feelings,  .         .         ;        .         .242-243 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  X. 
Quantity  and  Duration  of  Emotion. 

PAGi:s 
§  1.  Qtiantity,  or  Intensity. — Mental  excitement. — Relativ- 
ity of  feeling. — Principle  of  contrast — of  attention 
— of  accommodation — of  fatigue. — Emotional  ex- 
pression.— Theories  of  expression. — Physical  basis 
of  emotion. — Diffusion  of  emotion. — Brain-seat. — 
Passion. — Theories  of  emotion. — Reproduction  of 
emotion. — Transfer    by    association. — Conflict    of 

emotion, 244-262 

§  2.     Duration    of    Emotion.  —  Cessation    and    relief.  — 

Rhythm, 363-265 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Ideal  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

§  1.    Primary  Conditions  of  Ideal  Tone,     ....  266-268 

§  2.     Secondary  Conditions, 268-274 

§  3.     Conclusion, 274-275 

§  4.     Universality  of  Tbwe.— Complexity  of  tone-states. — 

Relativity  of  ideal  pleasure  and  pain,      .        .        .  275-279 


PART  IV. 

WILL. 

MOTOR  ASPECTS  OF  SENSUOUS  FEELING. 

CHAPTER   XII. 
The  !Motor  Consciousness. 

§  1.     Idea  of  the  Motor  Coiisciousness. — Law  of  mental  dy- 

naniogenesis. — Varieties  of  motor  consciousness,     .  280-282 

§  2.     Motor  Value  of  the  Subconscious,        ....  283-284 

§  3.     Motor  Value  of  Reactive  Consciousness. — Elements  of 

reactive  consciousness, 285-286 

§  4.     FeAimj  of  Kxpenditure  in  Attention. — Sensorial  and 

intellectual  attention, 286-289 


X  CONTENTS. 

PAGES 

§  5.  Tlieories  of  the  Feeling  of  Activity  in  Reflex  Atten- 
tion.— Effect  theory  of  reflex  attention. — Spiritual 
theory,     289-293 

§  6.     Conclusion  on  Reactive  Consciousness,        .        .        .  293-294 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
Stimuli  to  Involuntary  Movement. 

§  1.  Notion  of  Stimulus. — Kinds  of  motor  stimuli. — Extra- 
organic  stimuli. — Reflex  stimuli. — Suggestion  as 
motor  stimulus. — Organic  stimuli. — Expressive  re- 
actions.— Pleasure  and  pain  as  stimuli. — Nature  of 
pleasure  and  pain  reactions. — Motor  spontaneity,    .  295-304 

§  2.  Imjnilse  and  Instinct. — Impulse. — Definition. — In- 
stinct.— Complexity  of  instinct. — Definition  of  in- 
stinct.— Variability  of  instinct,         ....  304-313 

§  3.  Afective  Nature  of  all  Stimuli  to  Movement. — Af- 
fects.— Division  of  affects, 313-315 

MOTOR  ASPECTS  OF  IDEAL  FEELING. 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

Stimuli  to  Voluntary  Movement. 

§  1.  TJie  Voluntary/  Motor  Consciousness :  General  Stim- 
uli.— Interest. — Affects  as  voluntary  stimuli,  .  316-320 

§  2.  Special  Stimulus :  Desire.  —  Impulse  in  desire. — 
Kinds  of  intellectual  impulse  :  appetence. — Desire 
and  its  objects. — Tone  of  desire.— Coefficient  of  de- 
sire.— Physical  basis  of  desire. — Aversion,       .        .  320-331 

§  3.     Vohmtary  Movement  and  Habit,         ....  331-332 

§4.     Motive, 332-333 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Voluntary  Movement. 

§  1.  Feelings  of  Effort  and  Consent. — Fiat,  psychological 
and  physiological. — Neget,  psychological  and  phys- 
iological.— Consent. — Summary  on  muscular  effort. 
— Muscular  effort  and  the  attention,        .         .         .  334-344 

§  2.  Physiology  of  Voluntary  Jlovement. — Psycho-physi- 
cal conception  of  will. — Theory  of  innervation,        .  344-350 


CONTENTS.  xi 

CHAPTER   XVI. 
Volition. 


PAGES 


§  1.  Purpose:  Voluntary  Attention  as  Choice. — Law  o£ 
motive. — Nature  of  motives. — Volitional  appercep- 
tion.— Controlling  motive. — Deliberation. — Choice. 
— Potential  and  final  choice. — Feeling  of  alterna- 
tives.— Moral  choice. — Choice  and  habit. — Intellec- 
tual effort, 351-363 

§  2.     Character.  —  Development    of    character,    through 

choice, 363-367 

§3.     Initiation  of  Motives  hy  Attention,     ....  367-369 

§  4.  Freedom  of  the  Will. — Indeterminism. — External  de- 
terminism.— Immanent  determinism. — Freedom  as 
self-expression. — Feeling  of  freedom — of  responsi- 
bility,           369-375 

§  5.  Effects  of  Volition. —  Expressive  effects.  —  Effects 
proper. — Physical  control. — Mental  and  moral  con- 
trol,    376-381 

§  6.     Rational  Aspects  of  Volition. — Intuition  of  power. — 

Intuition  of  obligation, 381-383 


Appendix  A. 

—Educatiojial  Psychology :  Bibliography, 

.  383-384 

Appendix  B. 

—Dream-excitation,          .... 

.  384-385 

Appendix  C. 

— Number-forms, 

.  385-387 

Index, 

•                  ••••••• 

389 

PART  III. 

FEELING. 
GENERAL  INTRODUCTION  TO  FEELING. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

The  intimate  connection  between  mind  and  body 
which  has  been  already  assumed  in  the  treatment  of  the 
intellectual  function,  and  which  was  appealed  to  in  sup- 
port of  several  imi^ortant  interpretations  there,  comes 
before  us  at  the  outset  of  any  thorough  examination  of 
our  present  subject.  It  is  only  necessai-y  to  recall  the 
truths  of  the  sensational  life  to  be  aware  also  tliat  it  is 
in  the  realm  of  feeling  that  this  connection  has  its  funda- 
mental meaning.  Sensations  we  found  to  be  the  first 
content  or  filling  of  the  apperceptive  process,  and  sensa- 
tions are  at  least — whatever  else  they  may  he  held  to  be 
— the  inner  accompaniment  of  a  phj'siological  process. 
Sensations  are  first  of  all  affective.  The  claim  that 
physiology  and  pathology  have  upon  us,  therefore,  in 
this  connection,  must  have  at  the  outset  somewhat  ex- 
tended recognition. 

The  recognition  tluis  given  in  what  follows,  however,  is 
purely  psycliologir:il  recognition.  It  would  be  entirely  gratu- 
itous, as  well  as  misleading,  to  burden  an  exposition  of  mental 


2  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

processes  with  a  mass  of  detailed  physiological  data.  This 
extreme  of  politeness  and  hospitality  to  a  sister-science  would 
be  more  just  to  ourselvQs  and  more  complimentary  to  her  if 
it  took  the  form  of  an  earnest  study  of  her  results  as  she  re- 
ports them,  rather  than  the  attempt  to  condense  them  into  a 
kind  of  psychological  introduction.  This  has  been  done  too 
much  in  the  ''physiological  psychologies."  The  following 
pages,  therefore,  aim  to  present  only  the  great  outline  prin- 
ciples of  nerve-physiology  which  press  into  the  psychological 
arena  with  a  claim.,  at  least,  for  recognition,  as  having  more 
than  physiological  value.' 

The  reader  should  also  recall  here  the  general  postulate 
found  necessary  to  a  consistent  conception  of  true  psycholog- 
ical method,  namely,  the  postulate  that  all  mental  processes 
are  correlated  with  physical  changes  ;  that  there  is  an  uniform 
psycho-physical  connection.'^  This  assumed,  we  may  construe 
physiological  data  as  causes  or  effects  relative  to  affective  data 
in  our  attempt  to  unify  and  explain  the  mental  life. 


§  1.   Structure  of  the  Nervous  System. 

General  Conception  of  a  Nervous  System.  The  prob- 
lem which  a  nervous  system  wherever  found  may  be 
said  more  or  less  perfectly  to  solve  may  be  stated  thus  : 
Given  a  set  of  mechanical  conditions,  to  devise  an  apparatus 
tvhich  shall  receive,  register,  and  react  upon  these  conditions 
severally,  in  such  a  loay  that,  while  adapting  itself  progres- 
sively to  greater  complexity  of  condition,  it  at  the  same  time 
realizes  in  itself  a  higher  integration  of  the  same  conditions. 
The  nervous  system  probably  took  its  rise  as  a  new  in- 
tegratio]!  of  the  modes  of  mechanical  movement.  The 
question  as  to  how  such  an  integration  is  possible — 
whether  a  new  agency  altogether,  life,  organism,  or  more, 
was  necessary  for  the  result — is  not  before  us  here.  The 
essential  thing  is  twofold  :  first,  that  the  nervous  system 
is  itself  part  of  nature,  is  mechanical  in  its  function  ;  and 
second,  that  it  is  an  integrated  thing,  which  in  com- 


'  For  general  works  on  nerve-physiology,  see  references  at  the  end 
of  this  chapter. 

*  Senses  and  Intellect,  2d  ed.,  p.  28. 


ITS  STRUCTURE.  3 

plexitj,  and  consequently  in  function,  finds  no  complete 
analogy  in  anything  else  in  nature. 

The  mechanical  conception  of  the  nervous  system  is 
becoming  an  axiom  among  those  competent  to  form  a 
conception  from  the  facts  at  hand.  The  old  conception 
of  the  system  as  a  mysterious  generator  of  force,  which 
shed  its  energies  into  nature  through  muscular  move- 
ment, finds  few  modern  adherents.  The  acti\dties  of  the 
nervous  system  as  such,  apart  from  those  higher  func- 
tions in  which  consciousness  has  a  share,  show  it  to  be 
a  machine.  Electrical  experiments  realize  most  per- 
fectly the  purit}^  of  nerve-action  considered  as  mechan- 
ical. 

It  may  be  unnecessary  to  note  that  the  mechanical  con- 
ception of  tlie  nervous  system  has  no  question-begging  bearing 
upon  the  subsequent  theory  of  voluntary  movement.  What- 
ever the  will  be,  the  nervous  system  is  what  it  is.  If  we  find 
reason  to  believe  that  the  will  is  a  new  force,  then  voluntary 
action  is  nervous  action  plus  something  else  :  if  the  will  turn 
out  to  be  a  conscious  phase  of  nervous  change,  then  only  does 
the  mechanical  interpretation  swallow  it  up.  The  questions 
may  be  separated  clearly  enough  at  least  for  provisional  treat- 
ment, and  in  the  discussion  of  the  will  the  points  of  real  con- 
tact and  issue  will  become  plain. 

The  other  essential  feature  of  a  nervous  system,  its 
complexity  as  resulting  from  progressive  adaptation  to 
a  mechanical  environment,  will  detain  us  longer.  The 
history  of  such  a  development  in  complexity  is  not 
within  our  province  :  it  belongs  to  general  biology  and 
embryology.  But  the  fact  of  such  complexity  is  of  the 
utmost  moment  to  pure  psychology.  When  we  remem- 
ber that  the  mental  life  is  a  complexity  of  unheard-of 
intricacy,  that  introspective  analysis  is  often  powerless 
to  separate  it  into  more  than  the  roughest  groups  of  ele- 
ments, we  are  prepared  to  discover  a  similar  state  of 
things  in  the  case  of  its  physical  basis.  How  can  I  an- 
alyze mental  processes  V     Analyze  the  nervous  system, 


4  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

is  at  least  a  partial  answer  :  an  answer  which  is  true  to 
some  extent  whatever  theory  we  ultimately  hold  of  the 
nature  of  mind.  By  way  of  illustration,  the  localization 
of  cerebral  functions  may  be  cited  as  an  instance  of 
nervous  analysis  which  carries  with  it  mental  analysis. 
The  determination  of  the  diiferent  centres  in  the  cortex 
corresponding  to  different  classes  of  memories  (of  words 
as  heard,  as  spoken,  as  seen,  etc.)  has  given  us  an  anal- 
ysis of  the  so-called  "faculty  of  speech"  of  the  old  phre- 
nology. 

Taking  the  two  general  characteristics  thus  arrived 
at,  complexity  and  mechanism,  we  may  inquire  more 
particularly  into  :  I.  The  elements  of  the  nervous  system 
and  their  properties,  both  as  elements  and  as  a  system  ; 
and,  II.  The  activities  of  the  nervous  svstem,  or  the 
modes  of  nervous  action. 

I.  Nerve-elements.  As  far  as  our  knowledge  goes, 
"we  are  able  to  make  a  twofold  distinction  among  the 
elements  called  nervous,  nerve-fibres  and  nerve-cells.  As 
to  what  these  are,  the  general  meaning  ordinarily  at- 
tached to  the  words  expresses  about  the  amount  of  know- 
ledge physiologists  possess.  That  is,  a  nerve-fibre  is  a 
thread-like  cminection  between  different  muscular  and 
cellular  masses,  in  parts,  at  least,  longitudinally  ho- 
mogeneous and  continuous.  A  greater  or  smaller  num- 
ber of  these  white  thread-like  fibres  may  unite  together 
to  constitute  a  "nerve,"  which  connects  an  organ  (mus- 
cle, gland,  etc.)  with  a  greater  or  smaller  mass  of  cells. 
The  cells,  on  the  other  hand,  are  microscopic  elements 
shaped  like  a  flask  or  long-necked  squash.  One  of  the 
necks — for  there  may  be  more  than  one — seems  to  be 
prolonged  into  the  fibre,  and  is  called  the  axis-cylinder 
process  of  the  cell.  Both  cells  and  nerves  have  nuclei^ 
small  dark  points  which  are  surrounded  by  protoplasm. 
The  nerves  are  also  cut  up  at  intervals  by  nodes  resem- 


^ 


NER  VE- ELEMENTS. 


5 

See  Figs. 


bling  the  divisions  in  a  length  of  corn-stalk 
1  and  2. 

Some  cells,  however,  are  found  without  such  connec- 
tions, as  far  as  microscopic  analysis  is  able  to  go.  The 
cells   are    largely  gathered    in  masses  or    "centres," 


Fig.  1.— From  a  piece  of  spinal  cord.  A  and  B,  ganglion-cells;  at  Z),  axis-cylinder; 
p,  protf)plasmic  process;  c,  neuroglia-cells.  (After  Ranvier,  from  Kdiiiger, 
Am.  ed.) 

toward  which  fibres  from  different  regions  or  organs 
converge  and  apparently  lose  themselves.  What  is  usu- 
ally called  the  brain  is  a  series  of  such  centres,  varying 
in  size  and  complexity  from  the  cerebral  cortex  down- 
ward into  the  spinal  cord.  In  the  centres  the  cells  are 
separated  by  a  substance  called  neuroijlia  (see  Fig.  1) 
which  may  be  simply  a  form  of  insulating  or  connective 


6 


THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 


m 

Fig.  2.  —  Nerve-flbres 
(after  Sell  wal  1)6). 
a,  Axis-cylinrier;  s, 
sheath  of  Schwann; 
n,  nucleus;  p,  fjran- 
ular  RTibstance  at  the 
poles  of  the  nuL'leus; 
r,  Raiivier's  nodes, 
where  the  medullary 
sheiitii  is  inteirM|iie<l 
and  the  axis-cylinder 
appears. 


tissue  not  itself  nervous — the  opinion 
of  the  majority  of  neurologists, — or  a 
third  nervous  element  whose  function 
is  bound  up  with  that  of  the  cells — a 
view  supported  by  some  later  research. 

Farther  and  more  minute  questions, 
such  as  the  chemical  composition,  methods 
of  iusulation,  processes  of  growth  and  de- 
cay, of  the  uervpus  elements,  need  no 
notice  here.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  as  yet 
they  have  no  psychological  significance, 
not  perhaps  as  safe  to  say  that  they  never 
will. 

Late  researches  are  showing  that  the 
connection  between  nerves  and  cells  is  a 
more  complex  matter  than  the  above  ac- 
count indicates.  In  very  Ibw  cases  is  there 
reliable  evidence  of  direct  continuity  be- 
tween the  axis-cylinder  process  of  a  cell 
and  the  axis-cylinder  of  a  nerve.  On 
the  contrary,  the  researches  of  His,' 
Golgi,  Kolliker,^  and  others,  tend  to  show 
that  both  the  processes  of  the  cells  and 
the  subdivisions  of  the  nerves  divide  again 
and  again,  to  be  lost  in  the  interlacing  fibril- 
lar network  which  the  neuroglia  supports. 
Kolliker  goes  so  far  as  to  say,  speaking  of 
one  of  the  layers  of  the  small  brain:  "  No 
anastomosis  can  be  discovered  between  the 
endings  of  cells  or  fibres  with  themselves 
or  with  or»e  another."  His  reaches  the 
same  conclusion  regarding  the  brain  and 
spinal  cord  generally,  though  Kolliker 
finds  motor  cells  in  the  cord — cells  whose 
processes  are  continuous  wdth  the  motor 
nerves. 

Combination  of  Nerve-elements  in  a 
System.  The  elements  spoken  of  some- 
what  artificially   as   cells    and   fibres 


'  Arcliiv.  fur  Anal 
^  Zeitschrift  filr  wi 
sumcd  by  Donaldson, 


a.  Phj/s.,  Anat.  Ablh.,  Suppleinent  Band,  1890. 
ssensdiaftliehe  Zooloqie,  3Iai  nnd  Dec,  1890.     Re- 
Ainer.  Journ.  Psych.,  in.  pp.  544-48. 


THE  SENSOR  APPARATUS.  7 

have  uo  fuuctional  existence  apart  from  each  other  and 
i  from  the  living  organism  as  a  whole.  Viewed  as  a  whole, 
■  as  receiving,  registering,  and  reacting  upon  stimuli,  they 
constitute  the  nervous  sydem.  As  a  system,  the  nerv- 
ous apparatus  is  essential  to  the  life  of  a  higher  organ- 
ism and  partakes  with  it  of  a  great  dilferentiation  of 
parts.  What  we  call  organs  or  members  of  the  body 
have  a  unity  of  their  own  structurally  :  but  their  func- 
tional activity  is  one  with  the  general  life-process  of  the 
whole.  So  the  organs  or  members  of  the  nervous  sj's- 
tem  have  a  corresponding  structural  differentiation. 
Whether  the  three  general  functions  of  the  system 
spoken  of  above,  receiving,  registering,  and  reacting 
upon  stimuli,  are  in  any  v/ay  adequate  as  a  functional 
conception  or  not,  they  will  at  any  rate  serve  to  guide  us 
in  describing  the  three  great  j^arts  or  divisions  of  the 
nerve-apparatus.  We  will  accordingly  say  a  word  about 
these  three  divisions  in  order. 

The  Receiving  or  Sensor  Apparatus.     By  this  is  meant 
that  part  of  the  nervous  system  which  is  normally  con- 
cerned with  stimuli  from  without.     We  say  normally 
concerned,  since  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  all  nerve- 
tissue    has  the  receiving  property.     But  we  find  a  great 
system  of   fibi'ous   pathways    arranged  for  the  evident 
purpose  of  propagati)ig  disturbances  from  the  periph- 
ery of  the  body  and  from  various  organs,  to  the  higher 
centres.      Further,  these   fibrous   ])athways   may   have 
vspecial  receiving  organs  exposed  to  the  peculiar  stimulus 
which  we  call  psychologically  the  stimulus  to  a  particu- 
lar sensation :  such  special  organs  being  peculiar  to  the 
special  senses,  as  the  eye  for  sight,  ear  for  hearing,  etc. 
Accordingly,  the  receiving  apparatus  includes  two  dis- 
[V    .    tinct  elements,  the  sensor  course  and  the  end-organ.     The 
latter  (say  the  eye)  receives  some  form  of  excitation  (light), 
and  the  former  (optic  nerve)  propagates  it  to  the  brain. 


8  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

The  existence  of  sensor  courses  -which  have  no  end- 
organs  is  sufficient  to  show  that  the  latter  is  not  a  nec- 
essary part  of  the  system,  except  when  the  system  is 
highly  differentiated.  A  sensor  nerve  may  be  stimulated 
mechanically  by  a  blow,  by  a  touch  upon  an  exposed 
point,  etc.,  even  in  the  case  of  the  nerves  of  special 
sense ;  they  then  report  the  sensations  ordinarily  se- 
cured through  their  end-organs.' 

The  nerves  of  special  sense  show  no  structural  pecu- 
liarities except  the  possession  of  the  end-organ.  By 
nerves  of  special  sense  are  meant  those  which  report 
sensations  recognized  and  classed  as  having  distinct 
psychological  quality.  That  is,  we  find  special  end-or- 
gans for  each  of  the  seven  classes  of  sensations  discussed 
under  the  head  of  the  presentative  function,  the  muscles 
being  considered  end-organs  of  the  muscular  sense. 

Besides  these,  there  is  a  mass  of  nerve-courses  which 
report  less  distinctly  differentiated  and  localized  stimuli, 
the  purest  and  most  general  ps^^chological  condition  that 
they  induce  being  pleasure  and  pain.  These  are  called 
general  as  opposed  to  the  special  courses,  and  constitute 
the  physiological  basis  of  the  general  sensibility. 

As  to  distribution,  the  sensor  apparatus  is  coinci- 
dent in  extent  with  the  body  itself.  The  organs  of  gen- 
eral sensibility  are  distributed  throughout  in  the  form 
of  very  fine  fibrils  ;  these  fibrils  being  gathered  into 
bundles  and  these  again  into  larger  bundles  or  nerves 
as  they  approach  the  central  course,  the  spinal  cord. 
With  these  are  the  nerves  of  touch  and  muscular  move- 
ment, also  of  general  distribution,  the  whole  being  con- 
solidated into  two  columns  which  form  part  of  the  white 
matter  of  the  spinal  cord.  The  posterior  or  dorsal  por- 
tion of  the  cord  (the  portion  farther  hack  in  man  and  up 
in  animals)  is  called  the  sensor  portion  (postero-median 

'  For  example,  sparks  of  light  which  result  from  a  blow  on  the  optic 
nerve  or  from  mechanical  irritation  of  a  blind  eye. 


THE  SENSOR  APPARATUS. 


columns).  After  gatliering  up  representative  fibres  from 
all  the  successive  nerves  of  sense  which  run  into  the 
spinal  cord,  these  tracts  terminate  in  the  upper  en- 
largement of  the  cord  (medulla) ;  but  farther  pathways 
lead  up  to  the  highest  centre,  the  cortex  of  the  brain — 
and  this  is  the  essential  point.  For  the  location  of  these 
tracts  in  the  cord,  see  Fig.  3. 


Fig.  3.— Tlip  spinal  cord  and  nerve-roots.  A.  a  small  portion  of  the  cord  seen  from 
the  ventral  siiIh;  /?,  the  same  .seen  laterally;  C,  a  cross-section  of  the  cord;  D, 
the  two  roots  of  a  spinal  nervn;  ],  anterior  (ventral)  fissure;  2,  posterior  (dorsal) 
fissure  ami  columns:  3.  surface  groove  alonpr  the  line  of  attachment  of  the 
anterior  nerve-roots;  4,  line  of  origin  "f  the  posterior  roots;  5,  anterior  root- 
filanieiits  of  a  spinal  nerve;  6,  posterior  root-filaments;  6',  ganglion  of  the 
posterior  root ;  7.  T',  the  first  two  divisions  of  the  nerve-trunk  after  its  formation 
by  the  union  of  the  two  roots. 

Aiiotlior  tract  (the  cerebellar)  is  also  supposed  to  carry  in- 
coming impulses  upward:  it  arises  from  cells  distributed 
along  the  cord  and  passes  continnonsly  to  the  cerebellum 
(little  brain).  As  the  cerel)elluni  is  also  in  direct  connection 
with  the  hemispheres,  another  upward  path  is  thus  estab- 
lished. Foster  further  supposes  that  incoming  impulses  may 
travx'l  by  the  gray  matter  of  the  cord  (see  below),  or  by  por- 
tions of  the  gray  matter  with  the  longitudinal  fibres  which 
connect  different  segments  of  the  cord  together.' 


'  TexA-book  of  Phyniology,  5tli  ed.,  pi.  iii.  p.  1104. 
cussion,  ibid.,  sect.  9. 


Cf.  bis  whole  (lis- 


10  THE  NEEVOUS  SYSTEM. 

Tiie  arrangement  of  the  apparatus  of  the  special  senses 
is  more  special,  indicating  to  a  degree  the  order  of  devel- 
opment of  their  several  functions.  The  muscular  sense 
extends  to  all  the  muscles ;  touch  and  temperature  to  the 
periphery,  the  end-organs  residing  largely  in  the  skin.' 
The  other  special  senses,  sight,  hearing,  taste,  and  smell, 
have  each  a  particular  locality :  but  they  are  grouped 
together,  and  their  nerves,  by  reason  of  their  special  and 
closer  connection  with  the  central  nervous  masses  in  the 
skull,  are  called  cranial  nerves. 

The  Reacting  or  Motor  Apparatus.  The  analogy  be- 
tween the  receiving  and  the  reacting  apparatus  is  so 
close  that  they  may  be  taken  up  together :  more  espe- 
cially as  the  purest  type  of  reaction,  as  will  appear  below, 
assumes  that  there  is  no  break  of  continuity  between 
them.  The  nature  of  the  reaction  itself  is  a  point  of 
function  and  is  reserved  ;  the  apparatus  is  what  asks 
attention  now. 

In  the  reaction  v%-e  find  another  system  of  nerves, 
the  motor  courses,  quite  indistinguishable  from  the  sen- 
sor courses,  except  in  their  localities  and  their  endings. 
They  are  also  alike  among  themselves  as  regards  their 
end-organ,  the  muscles.^  They  issue  directly  from  the 
body  of  the  muscles  and  converge  to  the  spinal  cord,  of 
which  they  constitute  roughly  the  anterior  (front)  or 
ventral  portion — the  so-called  pj^ramidal  tracts.  The 
essential  facts,  again,  are  the  continuity  of  structure 
throughout,  and  the  universal  distribution  of  the  motor 
courses  to  the  muscular  tissue.  The  distribution,  how- 
ever, does  not  secure  equally  ready  reaction  of  all  the 

'  And  in  the  mucous  membrane  of  the  month  and  plian-nx,  wliich 
constitutes  with  the  skin  the  derivatives  of  the  cpiblaslic  layer  of  the 
embryo. 

-  The  secretive  and  vaso-motor  connections  are,  for  our  present  pur- 
pose, neglected. 


THE  MOTOR  APPARATUS.  11 

muscles  ;  indeed,  some  of  tlie  muscles  are  either  entirely  ■ 
outside  the  range  of  voluntary  control,  or  are  brought 
■v\-ithiu  only  b}'  much  exertion. 

Ferrier  holds  that  the  Jaleral  columns  (tlie  fibrous  matter 
lying  on  each  side  between  the  dorsal  and  ventral  columns) 
"contain  the  paths  of  sensation  and  voluntary  motion.'" 
The  most  frnitfnl  methods  of  study  are,  first,  the  "  Wal- 
lerian"  method,  i.e.,  the  observation  of  "degeneration"  in 
tracts,  in  consequence  of  tlieir  separation  from  the  centres 
from  which  they  rise;  and,  second,  the  study  of  the  enihnjDJng- 
ical  growth  of  the  fibrous  conductors  and  their  connections. 
For  example,  after  destruction  of  the  motor  areas  of  the  cor- 
tex, degeneration  of  the  so-called  "pyramidal  tracts"  in  the 
cord  is  distinctly  evident. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  spinal  cord  there  is  an  en-  ^. 
largement,  the  medulla  ohlongata,  in  which  occurs  a  re- 
arrangement of  all  the  courses  and  their  distribution  to 
the  various  masses  of  the  brain.  Above  the  medulla 
again  we  find  other  white  fibrous  bodies — which  need  not 
be  enumerated — serving  two  evident  purposes  ;  i.e.,  they 
gather  together  fibres  which  minister  to  the  same  func- 
tion, and  distribute  these  fibres  to  the  cellular  bodies  at 
which  such  functions  have  their  brain-seat.  In  these 
higher  white  masses,  motor  and  sensor  courses  are  inex- 
tricably interwoven  ;  and  in  only  a  few  cases  has  research 
succeeded  in  establishing  pathways  up  or  doAvn.  With- 
out giving  details,  we  may  say  that  the  following  points 
are  quite  definite. 

1.  Sensory  tracts  pass  from  all  parts  of  the  periphery 
of  the  body  up  through  the  (dorsal  columns  of  the)  spinal 
cord,  cross  (decussate)  in  part  in  tlie  medulla,  and  reach 
the  surface  of  the  opposite  hemisphere  of  the  brain 
(largely  the  rear  and  nether  portion).^ 

'  Functiom  of  the  Brain,  2d  cti.,  pp.  .'34-r)6. 

'^n  tliis  Cfvsc  .'ind  the  f<)lI(nvi^t,^  the  iiuflear  iiilerniptions  nro  not 
regarded:  for  debiils  cf.  Wutull,  Phyx.  Psych.,  3d  ed.,  pp.  142  IT.,  mid 
Foster,  loo.  cit.,  in.  sects.  9  and  7. 


12 


TEE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 


2.  3Iotor  tracts  pass  from  all  parts  of  the  periphery  up 
through  the  (ventral  columns  of  the)  spinal  cord,  cross 
in  part  in  the  medulla,  and  reach  the  opposite  hemi- 
sphere in  the  motor  zone  (area  on  both  sides  the  fissure 
of  Kolando,  including  the  paracentral  lobule ').  These 
courses  are  called  the  pyramidal  tracts  from  the  pyramid 
form  in  which  they  are  bunched  on  the  ventral  side  of 
the  medulla.     See  Figs.  4  and  5. 


Fig.  4.— Scheme  of  pyramidal  tracts,  p".  p'>,  }.1^  periphery  of  body;  n>,  i",  n', 
spinal  nuclei  of  origin;  PyS.  lateral  pyramidal  tract;  PyV,  anterior  pyramidal 
tract;  ca.  anterior  commissure  of  spinal  cord;  DP.  decussation  of  pyramids; 
P(/,  pyramids;  Pp,  pes  pedunculi  cerebri;  Ci,  internal  capsule;  Po,  pons;  npo. 
nuclei  poiitis;  c/),  cerebellum:  ?-«.  periphery  supplied  by  cranial  nerves;  n*, 
nucleus  of  origin  of  a  cranial  nerve;  C  to  C«,  cortex  cerebri  (Oberstciner). 

3.  Association  tracts  develop,  in  the  course  of  the  life 
of  the  individual,  to  connect  all  parts  of  the  cortex  of  the 
brain  with  one  another.     They  are  almost,  if  not  quite, 


'  See  Senses  and  Intellect,  Frontispiece  and  p.  114. 


ITS  STRUCTURE. 


13 


absent  at  birth.  In  the  words  of  Edinger :  "  They  extend 
everywhere  from  convolution  to  convolution,  connecting 
parts  which  lie  near  each  other  as  well  as  those  which 
are  widely  separated.     They  are   developed  when  two 


Cortex  of  the  hraiA 


a 


Fig.  5.— Diagram  of  innervation  of  a  muscle.    (After  Edinger,  Am.  ed.) 


different  regions  of  the  cortex  are  associated  in  a  common 
action."  '     See  Fig.  6. 

Under  the  same  head  maybe  included  also  the  fibres 
which  connect  the  two  hemispheres  with  each  other, 
making  of  them  a  single  organ  in  relation  to  the  lower 
parts  of  the  system.  Such  connections  are  found  in  two 
great    bundles  called   the    corpus   callos7im,   being   the 


'  Structure  of  the  Ventral  Nervous  Synlem,  p.  69. 


14 


THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 


Fig.  6.— Diagrammatic  representation  of  a  part  of  the  association  fibres  of  one 
hemisphere.    (After  Ediuger,  Am.  ed.) 


floor  of  the  great  longitudinal  fissure  wliicli  separates  the 
hemispheres  from  above,  and  the  anterior  commissure 
below.     Both  are  sho^yn  in  the  accompanying  figure  (7). 


Fig.  7.— Frontal  section  of  the  course  of  the  corpus  callosum  and  the  anterior  com- 
missure.   (After  Edinger,  Am.  ed.) 


I 


THE  CE^'-TRAL  APPARATUS.  15 

The  Registering  Apparatus.  Under  this  term  we  in- 
clude the  more  or  less  complex  chain  of  cellular  elements 
which  constitutes  the  centre  receiving  and  reacting.  The 
word  registering  emphasizes  again  the  integration  or 
development  side  of  the  nerve-process.  In  its  most 
general  or  schematic  outline,  the  sj'stem  is  made  up  of 
two  similar  nerve-courses  brought  into  organic  connec- 
tion at  their  upper  end  by  this  cellular  series.  It  may- 
be represented  to  the  eye  in  the  following  simple  way, 
31  being  the  motor  course,  S  the  sensor  course,  and  G  the 
central  elements:  the  whole  constitutes  the  elementary 
nervous  arc  (Fig  8). 


M 


'.Of 


6' 
Fia.  8.— Nervous  Arc. 


Our  knowledge  of  the  central  elements  is  exceedingly 
vague,  both  as  regards  structure  and  function.  As  to 
structure,  the  most  exact  thing  that  we  can  say  is  that 
the  centre  is  cellular  and  probably  in  all  cases  complex. 
Its  complexity  is  indeed  so  striking  and  elaborate  that 
it  is  this  feature  that  tends  to  obscure  all  others  and 
render  research  fruitless.  A  general  distinction  is  made 
by  physiologists  between  the  simple  arc  and  the  com- 
plex mass  of  many  arcs  with  their  accompanying  highly 
integrated  centre  ;  but  the  simple  arc  is  a  pure  abstrac- 
tion. Indeed  its  very  conception  is  dependent  upon  the 
results  of  an  analysis  of  the  centres  which  has  never 
been  made.  In  reality  it  is  probable  that  the  simplest 
nerve-reaction  of  which  w-e  have  any  knowledge  involves 
a  cellular  mass  and  a  number  of  alternative  motor  and 
sensor  tracts.  Such  a  relatively  simple  system  is  found 
ill  the  ascidians,  wliicli  liave  only  a  single  ganglion  with 
sensor  and  motor  filaments.     See  Fig.  !). 


16 


THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 


Fig.  9.— Nervous  sys- 
tem of  an  Ascidian 
(Carpenter),  a,  the 
mouth;  6,  the  vent; 
c,  the  ganglion;  d, 
muscular  sac. 


In  distribution,  the  central  masses  again  illustrate 
the  hierarchical  arrangement  of  a  developmental  order. 
The  simplest  of  such  arcs  are  at  the  points  of  union  of 

nerve-courses,  points  where  the  motor 
and  the  sensor  find  an  interchange  of 
energies,  or  a  distribution  so  unin- 
volved  as  to  follow  from  the  nature  of 
the  nervous  integration  it  represents, 
without  appeal  to  a  higher  and  more 
complex  centre.  Such  comparatively 
simple  points  are  called  ganglia.  For 
example,  the  nerves  which  enter  the 
spinal  cord  on  either  side  at  intervals 
throughout  its  w^hole  extent  divide  a 
short  distance  from  the  cord,  and  send 
branches  called  motor-  and  sensory  roots, 
respectively,  into  the  cord.  Just  above 
the  point  of  division,  on  the  sensory  root,  we  find  a 
sicelling  or  lump,  a  ganglion.  The  ganglion,  it  is  thought, 
represents  a  junction,  to  use  a  railroad  figure,  for  the 
transfer  of  passengers  and  the  interchange  of  tele- 
graphic messages.'     See  Fig.  3  above. 

The  spinal  cord  is  made  up  of  a  series  of  segments, 
together  forming  a  column  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a 
continuous  mass  of  gray  (cellular)  matter.  This  gray 
column  gives  off  the  spinal  nerves  from  its  two  posterior 
and  two  anterior  horns  (see  Fig.  3) :  the  nerves  thus 
given  ofi  right  and  left  at  the  same  level  meet 
just  below  the  enlargement  or  ganglion  outside  the 
cord.  Above  the  spinal  cord  the  gray  matter  is  enor- 
mously increased,  as  we  should  expect  from  the  in- 
crease in  the  fibrous  pathways  already  described. 
Thus  a  number  of    bodies   are   formed  in  three  con- 


'  On  the  functions  of  the  ganglia  and  centres  generally,  see  below 


ITS  FUNCTIONS.  YI 

nected  systems :'  first,  tlie  most  central  gray  matter, 
serving  to  connect  the  spinal  column  with  the  higher 
centres,  and  giving  the  cells  from  which  arise  the 
cranial  nerves ;  second,  the  segmental  system,  including 
all  the  masses  which  lie  in  the  interior  of  the  brain  (the 
most  important  being  the  striate  bodies  and  the  optic 
thalami) ;  and  third,  the  surface  masses,  the  cerebrum, 
which  has  its  gray  matter  arranged  in  layers,  giving  the 
cortex  or  rind,  and  the  cerebellum  or  little  brain,  a  similar 
mass  behind  and  beneath  the  cerebrum  with  a  similar 
cortex  of  its  own.  For  present  purposes  the  essential 
points  again  to  be  noted  in  this  connection  are,  first, 
what  we  have  called  the  hierarchical  character  of  the 
series,  the  unbroken  advance  in  structural  complexity ; 
and  second,  the  continuity  of  connection  and  infiuence 
through  it  all. 

This  schematic  and,  from  the  physiological  point  of 
view,  quite  inadequate,  description  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem as  an  apparatus,  will  sufiice  for  our  psychological 
purpose.  It  aims  to  omit  nothing  essential  to  the 
estimation  of  current  theories  of  the  physical  basis  of 
sensibility.  It  also  aims  to  present  sufiicient  data  for  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  laws  of  function,  as  far  as 
they  are  now  known. 

§  2.  Functions  of  the  Nervous  System. 

II.  The  consideration  of  nervous  structure  leads  at 
once  to  that  of  function.  The  word  function  points 
from  anatomy  to  physiology,  and  precipitates  us  into 
a  sea  of  contention  among  rival  schools.  Under  what- 
ever names  they  be  discussed,  however,  a  certain  nuni- 


'  Following  Foster,  Textbook  of  Physiology,  pi.  iii.  pp.  977-98.  For 
details  and  diugnims  see  auy  of  the  Phy.si()l()gie.s  ;  Ladd's  small  Ouilinea 
of  I'liyHiolofjkal  rnycJioloyy  is  coiivcniciil  for  reference. 


18  TEE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

ber  of  processes  are  recognized  by  contemporary  physi- 
ologists as  being  distinctly  nervous.  It  is  well  here, 
as  in  the  treatment  of  the  question  of  structure,  to 
proceed  synthetically,  endeavoring  first  to  present  the 
original  properties  of  nerve-substance. 

Fundamental  Properties  of  Nervous  Tissue.  Experi- 
mental research  upon  living  nerve-tissue  has  issued 
in  a  conception  of  protoplasm  which  includes  two  func- 
tional elements.  At  the  first  glance,  nerve  substance 
exhibits  the  property  called  in  general  scientific  no- 
menclature irritability.  This  property  is  by  no  means 
confined  to  developed  nerve-elements :  it  is  exhibited 
by  all  living  animal  tissue,  by  forms  of  organism  in 
which  a  nervous  system  is  entirely  wanting.'  In  some 
forms  of  vegetable  life,  as  the  sensitive  plant,  the  same 
property  is  presented.  In  the  case  of  nervous  irrita- 
bility, however,  whenever  the  substance  assumes  the 
complexity  of  a  system,  we  are  led  to  view  it  under  two 
distinct  functional  rubrics.  Kecalling  a  former  division, 
we  find  the  receiving  and  the  reacting  apparatus  to  be 
appropriate  to  the  same  function,  that  of  propagation, 
transmission,  or  conduction ;  and  the  central  arc,  the 
registering  apparatus,  suggests  a  function  of  integra- 
tion. Assuming  the  results  of  later  exposition,  these 
two  functions  may  be  called  respectively  Neurility  and 
Sentience. 

Let  us  consider,  for  example,  the  element  C,  of 
Fig.  8,  above,  to  be  the  centre  or  nucleus  of  a  proto- 
plasmic mass,  and  the  two  lines  M  and  S  to  be  two  radii 
from  the  centre  to  the  outer  surface.     If,  then,  the  mass 


'  These  primitive  unicellular  organisms  show  a  remarkable  sensi- 
tiveness to  differences  of  light  and  darkness.  See  the  reports  of  Engel- 
mann,  Pflitger's  Archiv,  xxix,  quoted  by  Romanes,  -who  gives  a  collec- 
tion of  facts  regarding  the  sensations  of  the  lower  invertebrates,  Men. 
Evolution  in  Animals,  pp.  80  If. 


NEURILITY.  19 

be  stimulated  at  the  outer  end  of  ^S',  and  this  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  withdrawal  of  the  point  stimulated,  we 
have  a  phenomenon  of  irritability.  But  we  may  suppose 
)S^  to  be  a  line  of  conduction  of  the  excitation  to  C,  and 
31  the  line  of  reverse  conduction  or  reaction  which  re- 
sults in  the  contraction :  both  of  these  fall  under  the 
conception  of  Neurility.  The  process  by  which  they  are 
held  together  at  the  exchange-bureau  C,  so  to  speak, 
is  Sentience.  This  rough  conception  may  be  made  more 
distinct  as  the  two  processes  are  taken  up  singly. 

1.  Neurility.  Under  the  head  of  neurility  we  are 
introduced  to  a  class  of  phenomena  which  have  striking 
analogies  in  physical  science.  The  conception  or  phe- 
nomenon of  conduction  is  familiar  in  what  we  know 
of  light,  sound,  and  heat  propagation ;  but  the  special 
analogy  which  at  once  suggests  itself  is  electric  con- 
duction along  a  metallic  wire.  Setting  aside,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  speculation,  the  hypothesis  that  nervous  force 
is  identical  with  electricity,  we  may  still  find  in  the 
analogy  much  help  to  a  clear  conception  of  nervous 
conduction. 

Indeed  the  theory  of  nervous  action  most  current 
among  authorities — as  well  as  in  the  popular  mind — 
finds  its  general  exposition  in  terms  of  the  analogy  with 
electric  action.  On  this  theory,  the  nerve-courses  are 
simply  and  only  conductive  tracts,  as  the  electric  wire 
in  a  telegraph  system  :  the  centres,  on  the  contrary,  are 
the  generators  of  "nervous  force."  At  the  centre  we 
have,  therefore,  a  storage-battery  from  which  force  ia 
drawn  off  along  the  motor  courses  upon  the  occasion  of 
the  arrival  of  a  stimulus  from  the  sensor  course.  The 
centres,  on  this  theory,  are  the  essential  nervous  agcnt» 
or  producers,  and  the  courses  are  brought  into  oper.-k- 
tion  only  as  they  are  charged  from  the  central  battery 
or  pile.     Neurility,  therefore,  is   simply  the  molecular 


20  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

state  which  constitutes  a  course  a  good  nervous  con- 
ductor. 

This  theory  is  objected  to  both  on  theoretical 
grounds  and  from  experiment.  It  makes  the  distinction 
between  courses  and  centres  too  absolute  and  mechani- 
cal. According  to  it,  any  distinct  dynamic  property  is 
taken  from  the  nerve-tracts ;  while  experiments  show 
that  the  elementary  portions  of  both  sensor  and  motor 
nerves  have  a  life  and  function  of  their  own.  The 
eye  when  removed  from  its  socket,  thus  losing  all  con- 
nection with  a  centre  or  ganglion,  still  shows  sensitive- 
ness to  light,  and  has  a  motor  reaction  in  the  contraction 
or  expansion  of  the  iris.'  Pfliiger  maintains  that  there 
is  an  increase  in  intensity  in  the  nervous  disturbance 
as  it  traverses  the  motor  nerve,  and  Eichet  *  thinks  a 
similar  increase  in  the  sensory  nerves  probable. 

Accordingly,  another  theory  is  advanced  which  seems 
more  philosophical  to  the  present  writer,  as  far  as  he 
ventures  to  have  an  opinion  on  a  matter  so  purely  phy- 
siological. This  second  conception  of  the  nervous  system 
makes  it  a  living  organism  instinct  with  nervous  force  or 
neural  properties  throughout.  This  system  is  in  a  state 
of  unstable  equilibrium  and  constant  change,  due  to 
stimuli  through  sense-organs  and  to  spontaneous  central 
discharge.  Disturbances  tend  to  equalize  themselves 
everywhere  in  the  system  by  a  species  of  centrifugal  and 
centripetal  tension,  which,  through  its  greater  or  less 
effectiveness  in  this  direction  or  that,  upon  this  course  or 
that,  results  in  conduction  or  neurility.     Differentiation, 

1  Brown- Sequard,  Proc.  Roy.  Soc,  1886,  p.  234.  See  note  of  many 
Other  such  facts  in  Lewes,  Phi/s.  Basis  of  Mind,  p.  231  f.  Auother 
interpretation  may  be  given  such  facts,  i.e.,  that  the  stimulus  acts 
immediately  upon  the  muscle  :  but  this  would  not  damage  the  position 
in  the  text,  since  it  is  probable  that  nervous  and  muscular  irritability  do 
not  differ  in  kind.  Cf,  Kuhne,  Croonian  Lect. ,  Froc.  Roy.  Soc,  xliv. 
pp.  433  ff. 

^  Recherches  experimeniales  et  cliniques  sur  la  sensibilite,  p.  297. 


DYNAMIC  CONCEPTION.  21 

therefore,  in  the  system  is  primarily  structural  differ- 
entiation, due  to  the  adaptation  of  the  life-process  to 
changing  conditions  in  the  environment. 

Mr.  Lewes  *  argues  for  the  second  interpretation  with  great 
clearness  and  force,  and  Dr.  Broadbent  has  recently  stated  it 
concisely  before  the  Neurological  Society  of  London."  The 
term  neurility  is  also  due  to  Mr.  Lewes. 

The  **  dynamic "  conception,  as  the  latter  may  be 
called,  is  supported  by  a  class  of  facts  which  show  a 
ready  and  facile  interchange  of  influence  throughout  the 
system  difficult  to  account  for  if  the  parts  between  which 
the  transfer  occurs  are  functionally  distinct :  such  gen- 
eral transfer  affords  the  so-called  law  of  diffusion."  For 
example,  a  single  sensory  stimulus  may,  when  intense, 
or  when  the  system  is  excited  from  disease,  lead  to  gen- 
eral irritation  and  diffusive  discharge.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  reflex  having  its  centre  in  a  particular  spinal 
ganglion  may  be  partially  stopped  by  a  sensory  excita- 
tion from  another  part  of  the  body.*  Cases  of  associa- 
tion between  sounds  and  colors,^  and  phenomena  of 
contrast'  generally,  show  such  dynamic  connections  be- 
tween disparate  sense-regions.  Urbantschitsch '  found 
that  the  perception  of  color  was  improved  when  a  tun- 
ing-fork was  made  to  vibrate  near  the  ear. 

'  Physical  Basis  of  Mind,  Problem  II. 

'  See  Brain,  vol.  xi.  p.  396.  For  profound  considerations  looking 
to  the  electrical  interpretation,  see  Kiihue,  Croouiau  Led.,  Proc.  Roy. 
JSoc,  XLiv.  pp.  427  II. 

2  Bain.  This  law  is  considered  more  fully  later,  in  connection  with 
the  subject  of  "emotional  expression,"  Oliap.  X.  ^  1. 

•*  Wiiiidt,  Phys.  Psych.,  '.id  ed.,  r.  p.  183,  and  Foster,  loc.  cit.,  §  593  ; 
also  see  Lewes'  collection  of  striking  facts  in  Phya.  Basis  of  Mind,  p.  334. 

*  See  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  208. 

«  Below,  Chap.  IV.  §  1. 

'  See  this  and  many  other  facts  proving  the  general  position,  Pftii- 
ger's  Archiv,  xlii.  p.  154.  James  {Psycltoloyy,  ii.  pp.  374-82)  gives  some 
striking  illustrations. 


22  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

Whicliever  of  these  views  we  may  adopt,  the  result  is 
the  same  for  the  cousideratiou  of  the  fundamental  nerve- 
process.  If  we  hold  that  neui-ility  is  simple  molecular 
conduction,  then  it  is  extra-neural  and  the  term  neurility 
is  a  misnomer  ;  that  is,  the  central  process  alone  is  left. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  we  hold  that  the  system  is  func- 
tionally one  throughout,  then  we  extend  the  activity  of 
the  centres  in  kind  also  to  the  elejnents  of  the  courses 
and  central  action  is  again  the  only  action.  In  other 
words,  we  are  shut  up  in  either  case  to  what  we  have 
called  sentience  for  our  ultimate  point  of  departure. 
From  the  latter  point  of  view,  the  amount  and  extent  of 
"  diffusion  "  would  indicate  likelihood  of  consciousness 
and  its  intensity,  the  organic  reactions  where  diffusion 
is  least  being  outside  of  the  personal  consciousness. 

However  it  may  be  explained,  nervous  conduction  is 
of  fundamental  importance  for  the  theory  of  sensibility. 
And  for  practical  purposes  the  wave  or  current  theory 
serves,  as  in  electricity,  all  ordinary  requirements.  The 
nervous  wave,  therefore,  is  called  centripetal  or  afferent 
when  moving  toward  the  centre,  and  centrifugal  or  efferent 
when  moving  toward  the  periphery.  The  rate  of  trans- 
mission differs  somewhat  in  the  two  directions,  being 
about  120  feet  per  second  for  sensor  and  110  feet  for 
motor  impulses.  Transmission  through  the  spinal  cord 
takes  place  considerably  more  slowly. 

2.  Sentience.  From  the  foregoing  it  seems  that  our 
search  for  knowledge  of  "  nervous  force  "  has  at  last 
taken  the  right  turn,  and  in  "  sentience  "  we  are  to  have 
our  curiosity  satisfied.  But  here  it  is  even  more  em- 
phatically true  than  anywhere  else  that  neurology  has 
nothing  final  to  offer  us.  As  to  what  goes  on  when  a 
centre  receives,  registers,  and  reacts  upon  a  stimulus  we 
are  completely  in  the  dark.  From  the  interpretation  of 
results,  and  from  physiological  analogies,  some  general 


SENTIENCE.  23 

statements  may  be  made,  and  these  general  statements 
are  valuable  for  psychology  ;  but  they  do  not  pretend  to 
throw  any  light  upon  the  genesis  or  nature  of  nervous 
force. 

a.  Integration.  Of  these  general  statements,  the  first 
concerns  what  has  already  been  called  the  integrating 
function  of  nerve-centres.  By  this  is  meant  the  building 
up  of  a  centre  to  greater  complexity  of  structure  through 
new  stimulations.  It  takes  place  by  reason  of  the  ex- 
treme plasticity  of  the  nervous  elements  in  taking  on 
arrangements  suited  to  more  habitual  and,  at  the  same 
time,  more  complex  reactions.  The  centre  becomes  the 
theatre  of  multiple  and  conflicting  stimulations ;  its  re- 
action is  the  outcome  of  a  warfare  of  interests,  and 
the  pathway  of  discharge  is  a  line  of  conduction  most 
favorable  to  future  similar  outbursts.  A  centre  gains  by 
such  complex  acti\'ities  in  two  ways  :  first,  its  habitual 
reactions  become  a  rock-bed  or  layer  of  elements,  so  to 
speak,  of  fixed  function  issuing  in  established  paths  of 
least  resistance  ;  and  second,  the  centre  grows,  gaining 
new  and  more  mobile  elements,  and  responding  to  more 
complex  and  difficult  motor  intuitions.  For  example,  the 
centre  for  the  movements  of  the  hands  is  educated  from 
the  early  painful  lessons  of  the  bab^^'s  finger-movements 
to  the  delicate  and  rapid  touch  of  the  skilled  musician. 
Not  only  has  the  centre  l)ecome  fixed  and  automatic  for 
movements  at  first  painfully  learned,  but  it  has  become 
educated  by  learning,  so  that  it  acquires  new  combina- 
tions more  easily.  This  twofold  growth  becomes  the 
basis  of  the  division  of  the  sentient  apparatus  into  cen- 
tres and  ganglia.  The  "  rock-bed  "  elements,  so  called, 
fall  into  fixed  ganglionic  connections,  and  the  new  and 
free  cells  take  up  the  higher  function,  only  in  their 
turn  to  become  "  fixed  "  by  habit  and  to  give  place  to  yot 
other  and  more  complex  com])inutioi)S.  This  integrating 
process  is  what  gives  the  hierarchical  order  to  the  sys- 


24  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

tern,  and  throws  its  law  of  development  into  fine  relief. 
Integration,  therefore,  represents  a  structural  change  in 
the  direction  both  of  simplicity  and  of  complexity  :  of 
simplicity,  because  it  gives  ease  and  rapidity  to  habitual 
movements  ;  of  complexity,  because  it  brings  into  play 
new  elements  which  must  be  assimilated  to  the  unity  of 
the  centre. 

The  influence  of  habit  will  be  the  subject  of  further  re- 
mark below.  It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  the  law  of  habit 
simply  holds  up  to  view  one  side  of  this  process  of  integration. 
The  more  perfect  and  smooth  a  muscular  i-eaction,  the  better 
its  elements  may  be  said  to  be  integrated  in  a  common  func- 
tion ;  and  habit,  which  means  repetition,  is  the  means  of 
securing  this  result. 

As  to  the  range  of  such  education  of  the  centres  in  both 
directions — the  performance  of  simple  automatic  and  reflex 
movements,  and  readiness  to  acquire  new  complex  systems  of 
movement — there  seems  to  be  no  practical  limit.  The  volun- 
tary passes  into  the  automatic,  gaining  in  spontaneity  and  pre- 
cision, as  in  the  movements  of  walking,  running,  etc.;  and 
on  this  basis,  the  voluntary  again  builds  up  surprising  feats  of 
muscular  combination  and  skill,  as  in  the  supple  and  graceful 
performances  of  the  athlete  and  the  gymnast.  Our  whole 
active  physical  life  illustrates  the  interplay  of  these  two  ten- 
dencies. 

This  principle  of  integration  covers,  in  its  two  aspects,  the 
law  of  growth  of  living  tissue  in  general.  Exercise  always 
tends  both  to  consolidate  and  to  enlarge  an  organ.  A  muscle 
becomes  more  ready  and  exact,  as  well  as  larger  and  more 
capable,  with  frequent  use  ;  and  the  same  application  has 
been  made  of  the  principle  to  mental  functions,  notably  to 
the  memory.  The  striking  peculiarity  of  the  case  in  regard 
to  nervous  activities  is  the  excessively  detailed  differentiations 
it  works  :  we  have  here  not  only  the  rise  of  new  centres  from 
old  ones,  but  organic  pathways  developed  between  them,  and 
a  progressive  advance  secured  throughout  the  system,  from 
the  spinal  ganglia  up  to  the  cerebral  cortex. 

6.  Retention.  The  conception  of  integration  neces- 
sarily includes  that  of  the  permanence  of  the  modifica- 
tion on  which  it  depends.  If  reactions  are  integrated 
in  such  a  way  as  to  secure  the  upbuilding  of  the  system 


SENTIENCE.  25 

and  its  more  perfect  adaptation,  then  we  mnst  suppose 
that  each  reaction  works  a  minute  structural  change  in 
the  organism.  So  much  is  included  in  the  conception  of 
integration.  And  from  the  physiological  side  this  would 
seem  to  be  sufficient.  Retention  as  a  physiological  prin- 
ciple may,  therefore,  be  called  growth  in  functional  com- 
plexity ;  while  the  term  integration  refers  rather  to 
growth  in  structural  complexity. 

Accordingly,  the  conception  of  nervous  retention  runs 
somewhat  like  this  :  Nervous  retention  is  a  state  of  dynamic 
tension  or  te/ulency  due  to  former  nervous  discliarges  in  the 
same  direction ;  the  two  essential  points,  again,  being  the 
dynamic  or  tension  aspect  of  nerve-action  in  general,  and 
the  particularization  of  this  tension  along  a  given  path 
determined  by  previous  like  discharges. 

c.  Selection.  A  third  fact  of  sentience  may  be  called 
selection.  It  denotes  the  undoubted  property  of  the  liv- 
ing nervous  system  of  reacting  within  limits  of  greater  or 
less  adaptation.  It  shows  preference  for  certain  stimuli 
above  others,  if  the  word  preference  can  be  shorn  of  all 
its  reference  to  conscious  choice.  A  S3^stem  will  react 
on  a  stimulus  at  one  time  which  it  will  refuse  under 
other  circumstances :  or  it  will  distinguish  between 
stimuli  exactly  alike,  as  far  as  human  sensibility  for 
differences  can  determine.  The  brainless  carp  will  dis- 
tinguish food  with  some  degree  of  precision,  and  experi- 
ments b}'  Pfliiger  and  Goltz '  on  brainless  frogs  show 
that  they  adapt  their  muscular  reactions  to  varied  posi- 
tions of  the  limbs  which  could  not  have  been  experi- 
enced before  in  the  life  of  the  creatures.  Schrader  has 
also  reported  many  similar  cases  of  apparent  jjreference 
and  choice  in  brainless  pigeons.^ 

'  Fnnctioneii  der  Ncrvencenlreii  den  Froxr/ien,  18U9.  Cf.  Ferricr, 
Functio/18  iif  the  Brain,  2d  ed.,  pp.  73-76  siiid  lO'J. 

'  Compter  Reiidm,  vol.  102.  Lewes  gives  iiiteiesting  gcueral  cases, 
Pi-oblema  of  Life  and  Mind,  3d  series,  i.  pp.  42  f. 


36  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

Such  instances  seem  to  sliow  a  selective  function  in 
nerve-reactions  of  the  purest  type,  i.e.,  those  simply  gan- 
glionic, where  the  effects  of  consciousness  are  either 
quite  wanting  or  reduced  to  a  minimum  in  intensity.  If 
we  were  to  take  them  up  in  detail,  we  would  find  that  we 
could  distinguish  two  forms  of  what  appears  to  be  selec- 
tion, an  immediate  form  and  a  derived  form.  Under  im- 
mediate selection  may  be  included  all  cases  in  which  a 
single  stimulus  is  sufficient  to  call  forth  the  preference  ; 
under  derived,  cases  in  which  the  preference  is  shown 
after  one  or  more  mistaken  and  hurtful  reactions. 

Now,  derived  selection  finds  its  explanation  in  the 
integrating  function  already  spoken  of.  The  effects  of 
mistaken  reactions  are  inhibitive  rather  than  stimulative, 
by  the  same  law  which  in  higher  organisms  connects 
pleasure  and  pain  with  good  or  damage  to  the  system. 
Hence  stimuli  of  this  character  work  the  conditions  in 
the  system  which  lead  to  their  own  refusal.  It  is  cer- 
tainly, at  any  rate,  a  case  of  remarkably  quick  and  happy 
adaptation. 

In  cases  of  original  selection,  the  explanation  is 
probably  to  be  found  in  the  peculiar  delicacy  of  the  re- 
ceiving apparatus.'  To  say  that  a  brainless  animal 
selects  when  we  are  unable  to  point  out  differences,  is 
only  to  say  that  more  debased  currency  will  pass  for 
gold  with  us  than  with  it.  Instead  of  selecting  between 
two  stimuli,  therefore,  it  has  had  only  one,  and  has  re- 
sponded to  it :  the  other  being  mistakenly  considered 
by  us  as  fitted  to  excite  it.  Does  the  nervous  system 
select  from  a  multitude  of  similar  touches  ?  The  mag- 
net selects  from  a  multitude  of  similar  filings :  and  the 
explanation  seems  to  be  the  same.  Neither  the  touches 
nor  the  filings  are  similar  after  all. 


1  What  Ferrier  calls    "  more  complex  and  special   afferent    and 
efferent  reactions,"  loc.  cit.,  p.  118. 


SENTIENCE.  27 

Another  explanation  of  the  latter  kind  of  selection  must 
be  mentioned,  both  because  it  is  held  and  because  it  atronls 
a  philosophical  and  quite  plausible  hypothesis  :  it  is  possible 
that  our  subsequent  discussions  will  bring  us  into  accord  with 
it.  It  holds  that  sentience  involves  consciousness,  that  nerv- 
ous action  is  always  conscious  (not  self-conscious)  action,  and 
that  a  fundamental  mark  of  consciousness  is  preferential 
selection  or  choice.  Below  ^  the  general  relation  of  conscious- 
ness to  sentience  is  discussed,  and  occasion  will  be  seized  to 
revert  to  this  theory.  The  explanation  given  to  nervous 
selection  has  psychological  significance,  since,  according  as  it 
is  explained,  it  mayor  may  not  give  us  data  for  our  theory  of 
voluntary  choice. 

Physiologically  tlie  process  of  selection  may  be  pic- 
tured somewhat  thus  :  Given  a  state  of  nervous  tension, 
with  a  possible  outlet  in  forward  movements  :  this  outlet 
as  an  alternative  is  supported  by  various  traces  of 
former  forward  movements  and  their  consequences. 
A  pair  of  stimuli  are  received,  say,  by  weak  optical 
stimulation  of  objects  resembling  flies,  in  the  case  of  the 
brainless  carp  :  a  tension  is  created  toward  the  flies ; 
that  is,  a  tendency  to  move  forward.  The  tension  is 
stronger  toward  the  real  fly  by  reason  of  its  greater  ap- 
propriateness as  a  stimulus.  This  stronger  tension  is 
reinforced  by  memories  of  juicy  flies  already  eaten.  And 
lo,  the  selection  is  made,  the  forward  movements  folloAv ! 

The  further  discussion  of  this  question  involves  consider- 
ations of  such  breadth  and  philosopliical  importance  that  it  is 
of  necessity  postponed.  It  may  be  remarked  here,  however, 
that  if  the  mechanical  conception  with  which  we  started  is  to 
hold  throughout  as  a  sufficient  explanation  of  nerve-reactions, 
we  must  hold  either  that  there  is  no  true  selection,  the  first 
explanation  given  above  (in  the  large  print),  or  tliat  conscious- 
ness is  always  present,  and  with  consciousness  the  selective 
function  is  added.  It  is  essential  to  note  that  the  second  al- 
ternative (the  explanation  given  above  in  the  finer  print)  is  not 
necessarily  inconsistent  with  the  mechanical  <'on('('pti()n  of 
the  system.     The  law  of  action  and  reaction,  of  conservation 

'  Chap.  II. 


28  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

of  force,  may  hold  even  though  we  find  a  directive  and  selec- 
tive agency  in  consciousness.  A  comiaound  commutator  in  a 
telegraph-office  does  not  modify  the  strength  of  the  electric 
current :  but  it  does  convey  the  selective  agency  of  the  oper- 
ator along  one  connection  rather  than  another.  Consequently, 
if  we  find  evidence  of  such  selective  agency  later  in  the  will, 
the  mechanical  conception  of  the  nervous  system  will  not 
stand  in  the  way  of  our  accepting  it.  It  is  important  to  note 
this,  since  the  claim  that  consciousness  is  an' "  epiphenom- 
enon,"  a  piece  of  unessential  by-play,  rests  upon  the  supposed 
implications  of  the  mechanical  theory.* 

Law  of  Nervous  Dynamogenesis.  Sentience,  in  view 
of  what  has  now  been  said,  is  a  general  word  for  the 
rise  and  distribution  of  nervous  force.  The  receiving 
and  reacting  functions  are  both  essential,  the  one  neces- 
sarily giving  rise  to  the  other :  there  is  no  incoming 
nervous  process,  therefore,  that  does  not  tend  to  liberate 
energy  on  the  outgoing  courses.  Every  stimulus  has  a 
dynamogenetic  or  motor  force — may  accordingly  pass  as 
a  statement  of  the  law  in  its  individual  bearing,  the 
only  bearing  which  is  available  as  having  a  psycho- 
logical analogy. 


§  3.  KiXDS  OF  Neeyous  Reaction. 

The  twofold  growth  of  the  nervous  system  spoken 
of  under  Integration  gives  us  data  for  a  distinction 
among  different  reactions.  Integration  involves,  on  one 
side,  a  downward  or  "  ganglionic  "  growth,  represented 
in  function  by  the  more  unconscious  and  unintended  re- 
actions of  the  muscular  system  ;  and,  on  the  other  side, 
an  upward  or  "  central  "  growth,  represented  by  the 
more  difficult  muscularj)erformances,  in  which  attention 
and  effort  arejjalLeil-out.  These  two  laws  of  growth  act 
together,  and  in  the  result,  in  our  motor  experience,  we 

1  See  below,  Chap.  XV.  1^  2,  where  the  implications  of  a  selective 
theory  of  consciousness  are  fully  stated. 


KINDS  OF  NERVOUS  REACTION.  29 

find  every  degree  of  nervous  facility  or  the  contrary. 
Three  stages  of  such  growth,  from  down  up,  so  to  speak, 
are  usuall}'  distinguished. 

1,  Automatic  Reaction.  By  the  automatic  in  nerve- 
functiou  is  meant  the  self-acting,  i.e.,  those  reactions 
which  find  their  stimulus  in  the  living  conditions  of  the 
physical  organism  itself.  Certain  organic  processes  are 
/  necessary  to  the  life  of  the  individual  and  the  race — cir- 
culation, respiration,  digestion,  reproduction.  The  de- 
pendence of  these  essential  functions  upon  external 
stimuli  of  time  and  place  would  give  an  accidental  and 
varied  character  to  these  reactions  which  Avould  sub- 
serve death  rather  than  life.  Accordingly,  the  au- 
tomatic centres  represent  the  most  consolidated  and 
fixed  portions  of  the  nervous  system,  at  the  same  time 
that  they  are  complex  and  elaborate.  These  functions 
may  or  may  not  be  conscious,  their  most  healthful 
activity  being  generally  most  free  from  conscious  over- 
sight. With  very  rare  exceptions,'  also,  they  cannot  be 
modified  by  the  will  or  brought  under  voluntary  control. 

Automatic  action  may  be  said  to  represent  the  goal  and 
ideal  of  our  nervous  development  considered  as  a  mechanism. 
Its  action  is  self-stimulated,  in  the  sense  that  external  com- 
pounds are  taken  up  into  the  life-process  in  such  a  way  as  to 
prepare  the  necessary  stimuli  for  its  own  contiiuuuice.  Tlie 
dependence  upon  external  conditions  is  accordingly  made  more 
and  more  remote.  The  life  of  a  child  depends  upon  the 
regular  presence  of  a  single  food  of  few  properties.  But 
the  system  develops  to  the  capacity  for  variety  exhibited  by 
the  soldier  or  athlete.  This  mechanical  ideal,  however,  is  a 
distinctly  lower  ideal  than  that  which  is  ])rescntod  in  the 
''central"  growth;  for  there  the  organism  is  preparing  for 
reactions  by  which  remote  mechanical  conditions  in  the  en- 
vironment are  not  only  reacted  to,  but  foreseen,  modified  and 
controlled.  The  automatic  functions  have  their  nervous  seat 
largely  in  the  basal  ganglia  beneath  the  brain  and  in  the  cord. 


Cases  of  voluntary  control  of  tlic  beating  of  the  lieurt. 


30  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

2.  Beflex  Reaction.  A  nervous  circuit  is  reflex  wlien 
its  motor  reaction  upon  a  particular  kind  of  stimulus  is 
single,  definite,  constant,  and  does  not  involve  volition 
in  its  execution.  In  more  general  terms,  a  reaction  is 
reflex  whenever  we  are  certain  beforehand  that  it  will 
take  the  form  of  a  particvilar  well-defined  muscular 
movement,  and  will  do  its  work  without  any  interference 
or  mandate  from  ourselves.  We  are  disposed  to  stand 
apart  and  attribute  the  reaction  to  the  organism  or  to 
the  external  stimulus.  For  example,  if  a  ball  suddenly 
approach  my  eye,  it  closes,  or  if  it  strike  sharply  upon 
my  knee,  my  foot  flies  up  :'  we  do  not  say  I  close  my  eye 
or  raise  my  foot.  Or  we  go  farther  out  still  and  say  the 
man  who  threw  the  ball  made  my  eye  close  or  my  foot 
fly  up — so  thoroughly  do  we  distinguish  this  class  of 
reactions  in  consciousness  from  those  which  we  attribute 
to  our  own  agency. 

In  its  physiological  character,  this  kind  of  reaction 
represents  a  less  organized  and  consolidated  system  of 
elements  than  the  automatic.  A  reflex  reaction  is  gener- 
ally conscious  in  its  operation,  and  always  so  in  its  com- 
pleted results.  Its  centre,  also,  is  not  cut  ofi'  functionally 
from  the  higher  centres  of  the  brain,  which  exercise  a  con- 
trolling influence.  Yet  we  know  that  this  connection  is 
not  an  essential  one  to  the  reaction  itself,  since  after  the 
removal  of  the  cerebrum  and  with  it  all  active  conscious- 
ness (certainly ;  perhaps  all  consciousness),  the  reaction 
still  takes  place.  Each  of  the  segments  of  the  spinal 
cord  has  its  own  reactions  apart  from  its  brain-connec- 
tion." Indeed,  reflex  reactions  are  most  perfect  and  j^ure 
when  consciousness  in  the  form  of  attention  is  not  di- 
rected to   the  movements.     These  facts  tend  to  throw 

'  For  example,  without  assuming  with  Foster  that  the  knee-jerk  is  a 
true  refJex. 

"  Ward's  experiments  on  the  Crayfish,  Proc.  Roy.  Soc.  Eng. ,  vol. 

XXVIII. 


REFLEX  REACTION.  31 

reflexes  rather  on  tlie  side  of  tlie  "  downward  "  growth 
spoken  of,  and  assimilate  them  to  automatic  reactions. 
The  well-known  phenomena  presented  by  the  reactions 
of  a  brainless  frog  illustrate  pure  reflexes  ver}'^  clearly.' 

The  downward  growth  appears  from  the  fact  that 
many  of  our  reflexes  are  acquired  from  habit  and  repeti- 
tion. Motor  processes  at  first  difficult  and  simple  are 
welded  together  in  complex  masses,  and  the  wTiole  be- 
comes spontaneous  and  reflex.  The  case  is  cited  of  a 
musician  who  was  seized  with  an  epileptic  attack  in  the 
midst  of  an  orchestral  performance,  and  continued  to 
play  the  measure  quite  correctly  while  in  a  state  of  ap- 
parently complete  unconsciousness."  This  is  only  an 
exaggerated  case  of  our  common  experience  in  walking, 
writing,  etc.  It  represents,  from  the  standpoint  of 
body,  the  motor  organization  in  consciousness  already 
pointed  out  under  the  head  of  "  motor  intuition." '  Just 
as  a  number  of  single  experiences  of  movement  become 
merged  in  a  single  idea  of  the  whole,  and  the  impulse 
to  begin  the  combination  is  sufiicient  to  secure  the  per- 
formance of  all  the  details,  so  single  elementary  ner- 
vous reactions  become  integrated  in  a  compound  reflex. 

This  consideration  leads  to  a  further  distinction  be- 
tween more  or  less  organized  reflexes  ;  namely,  between 
w^^t  are  called  secondary -automatic  reactions  and  re- 
flexes proper.  In  the  case  of  our  movements  in  walking, 
for  example,  the  successive  reactions  are  not  sufliciently 
organized  to  belong  properly  to  a  single  stimulus — say 
the  original  idea  of  our  destination,  or  the  sensation 

'  The  mechanical  nature  of  such  reactions  is  admirably  shown  by  the 
globular  sea-urchin  :  "  If  two  equal  stimuli  be  applied  at  any  two 
points  of  the  globe,  the  direction  of  escape  (of  the  creature)  will  be  the 
diagonal  between  them  ;  if  a  number  of  points  be  simultaneously  irri- 
tated, one  effect  neutralizes  the  other,  and  the  animal  rotates  upon  its 
vertical  axis."— Romanes,  Mentnl  Evolution  in  Aniimils,  p.  29. 

■' Tnm.sseau.  (pioted  by  Lewes,  Phya.  Basis  of  Mind,  p.  221. 

^ Senses  und  Intellect,  chap.  viii.  §  3. 


32  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

of  our  first  footfall  upon  the  pavement ;  but  tlie  steps 
in  succession  are  probably  excited  by  the  succes- 
sive afferent  impressions  of  the  steps  accomplished. 
Each  step  stimulates  the  next,  etc.  That  there  is  no 
voluntary  stimulation  after  the  first  is  seen  in  cases  of 
revery  or  absent-mindedness,  when  we  go  along  accus- 
tomed paths  and  find  ourselves  where  we  least  intended 
to  "  bring  up."  The  distinction,  therefore,  is  merely  one 
in  degree  of  integration.  If  the  centres  are  sufiiciently 
organized  "downwards"  to  carry  out  the  entire  chain 
of  movements  when  once  begun,  we  have  a  pure  reflex ; 
if  new  sensory  stimulation  is  necessary  at  each  stage 
in  the  series,  the  reaction  is  secondary-automatic. 

This  distinction  was  first  pointed  out,  it  is  thought,  by 
Carpenter,'  to  whom  the  expression  "  secondary-autoniatic" 
is  due.     It  is  a  real  distinction,  but  under  his  terminology — 
which  we  follow  simply  to  avoid  unnecessary  novelty  in  the  use 
of  terms— the  essential  idea  is  obscured.     The  term  secondary- 
automatic  assimilates  such  reactions  to  the  automatic  or  es- 
sential processes  of  the  organism.     Now,  the  latter  have  regu- 
lar rhythmic  action,  a  unity  of  successive  stages,  and  a  unity 
of  end  that  is  quite  wanting  in  the  so-called  secondary-auto- 
matic.    The  latter,  on  the  contrary,  as  far  as  they  differ  from 
a  series  of  simple  reflexes,  do  so  in  calling  out  a  more  or  less 
cobrdinated  system  of  stimuli.     For  example,  in  the  walking 
case,  the  eye  guides  the  movements  in  turning  corners  and 
in  identifying  familiar  objects,  the  ear  takes  in  accustomed 
sounds,  the  foot  notes  the  material  trod  upon,  etc.     In  short, 
the  stimulus   is   a  coordination  of  general  sense-conditions, 
and  such  a  coordination  is  necessary  to  the  continued  reac- 
tion.    If  a  new  sound  break  in  on  my  ear,  if  my  foot  come 
upon  a  board  walk  instead  of  flag-stone,  or  if  a  strange  build- 
ing suddenly  confront  me,  I  am  "brought   to  myself  at 
once,  and  the  reaction  is  stopped. 

"We  would,  therefore,  substitute  the  expression  "  coordinat- 
ing" reflexes  for  secondary-automatic,  and  contrast  them  with 
"  simple"  reflexes.  As  this  coordination  is  represented  in 
the  centre  by  different  sensor  elements,  and  as  these  elements 
thus  become  drawn  into  a  common  motor  discharge,  the  re- 


'  Human  Physiology,  Philadelphia,  p.  504  f . 


VOLUNTARY  REACTION.  33 

action  called  coordinating  is  simply  a  stage  in  the  ''  upward  " 
growth  included  under  integration,' 

3.  Voluntary  Reaction.  A  third  great  class  of  nervous 
reactions  is  called  voluntary.  Bj  voluntary  reactions  is 
meant  such  motor  effects  as  follow  upon  the  conscious 
will  to  move.  They  cover  the  whole  class  of  intended 
movements  and  those  brought  about  by  greater  or  less 
effort.  Voluntary  movements  show  variation  in  several 
distinct  particulars;  such  as  strength,  continuance, 
rapidity,  and  direction.  "  The  strength  of  the  movement 
is  regulated  by  the  strength  of  the  initial  motor  impulse  ; 
the  extent  depends  in  reality  upon  the  same  influence  ;  / 

the  rapidity  results  from  the  more  or  less  rapid  succes-  V 

siou  of  voluntary  (motor)  impulses  ;  and  the  direction  /  ' 

is  determined  by  the  voluntary  localization  of  the  inci- 
tation  upon  certain  groups  of  muscles."  * 

The  voluntary  reaction  undoubtedly  represents  the 
highest  stage  of  development  of  nerve-tissue  as  respects 
complexity,  as  well  as  the  low^est  stage  as  respects 
consolidation  and  fixedness.  It  is  the  polar  opposite  of 
the  purel}^  automatic  function.  The  nervous  elements 
are  in  a  state  of  extreme  mobility  and  instability.  The 
connections  through  its  mass  are  infinite  in  number 
and  complexity,  and  numberless  alternative  courses  are 
accordingly  open  to  the  motor  outburst  of  a  sense-stimu- 
lation. Considering  the  state  of  the  cerebral  centre 
dynamically,  we  may  say  that  its  potential  energy  is 
constantly  seeking  discharge,  and  that  this  discharge  in 
one  course  rather  than  another — the  course  pictured  and 
designed  in  consciousness — represents  the  line  of  tension 
which  prevails. 

The  last  expression,  though  psychological,  is  neces- 

'  Professor  James  has  propouiuled  an  interesting  theory  of  the  nervoiia 
process  of  tliese  serial  reuclions,  Principleit  of  Pnyrhology,  ii.  pp.  579-92. 
"  Jaccoud,  quoted  by  Bastiau,  Brain,  x.  p.  52. 


84  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

sary  to  express  the  plij'siological  fact  wliicli  distiuguislies 
such  reactions.  The  stimulus  is  in  all  voluntary  reactions 
a  central  one,  and  a  conscious  pictured  one :  this  much 
at  least.  Now  the  point  of  interest  here  is  :  what  is  the 
meaning  of  central  in  this  connection  ?  If  we  admit  that 
no  discharge  from  the  centres  can  take  place  without  a 
pre\'ious  liberation  of  tension,  then  we  may  divide  such 
liberations  from  tension  into  two  classes  :  that  which  is 
brought  about  by  an  incoming  current,  and  that  which  is 
brought  about  by  an  earlier  cerebral  discharge.  The 
former  is  a  reflex  reaction,  the  latter  may  he  a  voluntary 
reaction.  One  at  least  of  the  conditions  of  voluntary 
action  is  fulfilled,  the  physiological  condition.  Whetlier 
this  is  sufficient  in  all  cases,  or  in  an}^  case,  to  account 
for  the  reaction,  it  is  our  subsequent  task  to  determine. 
Here  it  is  clear,  if  the  conception  of  nervous  function 
urged  above  is  at  all  correct,  that  the  process,  as  far  as 
it  is  physiological,  is  exactly  the  same  as  in  reflex  re- 
actions, except  that  the  elements  form  a  more  complex 
and  less  solidified  system,  and  that  the  physiological  con- 
dition of  their  activity  is  a  previous  state  of  central  ner- 
vous discharge  in  adjacent  or  functionally  connected  cen- 
tres. This  essential  sameness  of  function,  with  partial 
difterentiation  of  organic  seat,  is  confirmed  by  experi- 
ments showing  that  the  tracts  of  the  anterior  root-zones, 
while  transmitting  motor  impulses,  are  yet  motor  in  a 
sense  difierent  from  the  pyramidal  tracts.  They  appear 
to  be  "  paths  of  conduction  of  motor  impulses  from  cen- 
tres distinct  from  those  of  voluntary  motion  proper." 
Voluntary  impulses  are  carried  out  through  the  same 
apparatus  as  involuntarj',  but  have  their  initiation  in 
the  cerebral  centres.' 


'  Ferrier,  loc.  cit.,  p.  57.  See  also  the  expeiiments  noticed  below 
(Chap.  XVI.  §  5),  aiming  to  show  that  reactions  similai'  to  those  usually 
voluntary  may  be  produced  by  artificial  means. 


INHIBITION.  36 

The  discussion  of  voluntary  reactions  is  to  such  a  degree 
involved  with  the  discussion  of  conscious  volition  that  it  ia 
well  to  postpone  any  further  description  of  their  character. 
The  general  terms  of  the  text  serve  to  mark  theoi  ofi  from 
the  foregoing  nervous  processes. 

4.  Negative  Reaction  or  Inhibition.  Under  the  name 
of  inhihifion,  or  arrest,'  a  class  of  phenomena  is  in- 
cluded which  are,  as  far  as  our  knowledge  goes,  peculiar 
to  nervous  acti\'ities.  Every  positive  reaction  is  accom- 
panied by  a  reverse  wave,  an  arrest,  so  to  speak,  of  its 
full  effects.  It  is  analogous  to  a  negative  force  acting  to 
counteract  and  neutralize  the  outgoing  discharge.  It 
seems  to  take  place  in  the  centre.  The  effective  force  of 
a  reaction,  therefore,  is  always  less  by  the  amount  of  ner- 
vous arrest.  This  neutralizing  factor  has  been  meas- 
ured in  certain  conditions  of  nerve-reaction.' 

An  accepted  explanation  of  arrest  is  still  a  desideratum- 
in  physiology.  Theories  which  go  no  further  than  to  say 
that  it  is  negative  reaction,  or  an  inhibitive  property  of 
nerve-tissue,  or  native  resistance  to  conduction  m  the  gray 
matter,^  are  only  verbal  descriptions.  No  explanation  shall 
be  attempted  here  certainly  :  the  writer's  aim  is  merely  to 
bring  the  phenomenon  within  the  general  law  of  nerve-devel- 
opment already  advocated.  It  will  be  enough  to  show  that 
inhibition  is  a  necessary  factor />o???  the  first  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  system,  and  has  adequate  recognition  under  the 
twofold  law  of  integration. 

The  general  conditions  of  nervous  arrest  may  be  de- 
scribed in  more  detail,  and  for  purposes  of  later  inter- 
pretation, in  formal  numerical  order  : 

(a)  The  kind  of  reaction  showing  least  arrest  is  the 
reflex  ;   and,  in  general,  the  more  consolidated*  a  nerve- 


'  German,  Ilemmung. 

5  See  Wundt,  Mechanik  d.  Nerven,  I  ;  also  Phys.  Pxj/ch.,  chap.  vi.  2. 
^.Meynert. 

*Ci.  Wuiidt,  PhyH.  Pnych.,  chap.   vi.  3  :  he  uses  the  word  enchopfl 
(  '  formed  ")  with  the  same  meauing. 


36  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

track  or  centre,  tlie  less  exhibition  do  we  discover  of  tlie 
reverse  wave.  This  would  seem  to  indicate  that  in- 
hibition is  not  a  phenomenon  attaching  to  "  paths  of 
least  resistance,"  and  does  not  belong  on  the  side  of 
so-called  •'  downward  "  growth. 

(6)  Inhibition  is  at  its  maximum  in  reactions  which 
involve  centres  of  most  complex  activity.  The  phenome- 
na of  voluntary  control — inhibition  by  the  will — are  in 
evidence  here,  however  we  may  construe  the  will.  For 
it  should  be  remembered  that  we  must  find  a  mechani- 
cal basis  for  muscular  control  even  though  we  advocate 
a  directive  and  selective  function  of  will. 

(c)  Hence  inhibition  is  a  concomitant  of  instability 
and  complexity  of  nervous  tissue  :  and  it  belongs  on  the 
side  of  the  "upward  "  growth  of  the  system. 

An  interpretation  of  these  facts  may  be  suggested  in 
the  light  of  what  has  already  been  said.  "We  find  the 
growth  of  the  nervous  system  to  be  by  a  twofold  j^rocess 
of  adaptation.  Now  this  adaptation  means  the  taking  up 
into  itself  more  and  more  of  the  mechanical  conditions 
of  its  environment.  The  protection  of  sight  requires  a 
shield  over  the  eye  at  moments  of  exposure  :  the  system 
gets  to  itself  a  reflex  function  of  closing  the  lid  with  no 
voluntary  impulse  or  even  against  such  an  impulse. 
The  system  has  adapted  itself  mechanically  to  the 
environment.  Now  external  re,nstance  as  a  mechanical 
condition  is  in  like  manner  carried  over  into  the  system 
and  becomes  also  a  protective  property.  It  seems  to 
serve  the  part  outside  of  consciousness  which  pain 
serves  inside — a  "  governor  "  or  regulator,  neutralizing 
and  equalizing  the  spontaneities  of  life.  The  function 
'  becomes  still  higher,  outside  as  well  as  inside  of  con- 
sciousness, when  volition  dawns,  since  one  of  its  most 
essential  uses  is  the  higher  inhibition  which  is  called 
control. 

There  is,  therefore,  a  development  in  the  conception 


INUIBITION.  37 

of  inhibition  corresponding  throughout  to  the  structural 
development  of  the  system  in  complexity  and  instability. 
This  is  what  comes  out,  moreover,  when  we  consider  the 
dynamic  aspect  of  the  case.  Inhibition,  then,  is  the 
presence  of  an  opposing  tension,  and  is  possible  in 
proportion  as  the  system  grows  away  from  a  single  line 
of  action  and  reaction  toward  a  comj)lex  interplay  of 
force-pressures.  The  liability  of  any  particular  muscu- 
lar reaction  to  arrest  would  be  expected  to  varj',  as  it 
does,  with  the  number  of  possible  alternative  reactions, 
and  the  delicacy  of  their  balance  over  against  one 
another.' 

This  general  view  is  also  sustained  by  the  fact  now 
established  that  each  segmental  reflex  in  the  spinal  cord 
is  subject  to  inhibition  from  the  higher  segments,  and  in 
turn  inhibits  those  lower  down.  The  reflexes  of  a  frog's 
legs  immersed  in  dilute  acid  are  more  rapid  and  violent 
after  the  hemispheres  have  been  removed — showing  the 
normal  inhibitive  function  of  the  cortex^ :  and  the  re- 
flexes of  a  lizard's  tail  have  been  shown  to  increase  in 
vigor  as  the  segments  of  the  spinal  cord  are  successively 
removed.'  The  same  truth  is  made  plain  from  the  fact 
that  lesions  of  the  motor  zone  of  the  cortex  in  man  por- 
duce  greater  motor  disturbances  than  in  animals,  and 
greater  in  the  dog  than  in  the  rabbit ;  the  inference 
being  that  the  subcortical  centres  are  more  independent, 
less  inhibited,  as  we  go  lower  down  in  the  scale  of  animal 
organization. 


'  On  voluntary  iubibitiou,  see  Chap.  XV.  ^  1. 

«  Wundt,  loc.  cit.,  3d  ed.,  i.  pp.  17^183,  and  Foster,  loc.  cit.,  g  rm. 

8  Schiff,  Lehrbuch  d.  Phyaiologie,  p.  200.  The  .same  lack  of  inliihitioa 
appcjus  in  the  ffroater  autonuitisni,  .suggestibility,  and  wayward  iui- 
pulaiveueas  of  certain  forms  of  insanity. 


38  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 


§  4.   Corollaries  :   so-called   "  Principles   of   Nervous 

Action." 

The  foregoing  discussion  lias  brought  us  to  a  position 
from  which  to  estimate  the  current  "  principles  of  nervous 
action."  That  they  are  corollaries  deducible  from  the 
more  particular  truths  already  enunciated  is  in  itself 
proof  of  the  truth  of  the  conception  sketched  in  the  fore- 
going pages.  These  "principles"  may  be  spoken  of  in 
their  logical  order. 

I.  Principle  of  Specialization  of  Function.  According 
to  this  principle,  different  regions  of  the  nervous  system 
3,re  concerned  with  different  and  exclusive  functions.  It 
applies  to  the  functions  of  the  special  senses  considered 
as  reporting  qualitatively  different  classes  of  sensations  ; 
to  the  sympathetic  as  contrasted  with  the  sensori-motor 
system  ;  to  the  ganglionic  centres  as  controlling  the  move- 
ments of  specific  groups  of  muscles  ;  to  sensory  as  distin- 
grdshed  from  motor  elements ;  to  the  special  areas  of 
the  cerebral  cortex  which  experiments  have  led  us  to 
believe  have  distinct  motor,  sensor,  and  perhaps  intel- 
lectual and  volitional  functions.  It  is  only  a  further 
extension  of  the  more  fundamental  principle  of  integra-f 
tion  which  has  been  already  considered  ;  for  the  two 
growths  "upward  "  and  "  downward"  lead  to  functional 
divisions  between  the  parts  thus  developed.  The  nerves 
of  the  leg,  for  example,  as  their  simpler  actions  become 
more  reflex,  have  their  central  elements  in  ganglia  which 
are  thus  consolidated  into  an  organ  of  special  function  ; 
and  the  higher  centres,  being  thus  relieved,  are  given  over 
to  other  and  more  complex  coordinations.  In  short,  a 
"specialization"  of  functions  has  taken  place. 

Most  important  consequences  flow  from  this  princi- 
ple in  the  sphere  of  brain  phjsiolcgy  and  anatomy.  And 
in  the  topographical  divisions  of   the  cerebral  surface 


COROLLARIES :  ' '  PRINCIPLES  OF NER VO  US  A CTION."    39 

we  find  facts  liiglily  important  to  our  own  science.  The 
most  exact  determiuatious  of  particular  areas  in  the  cor- 
tex have  been  made  for  the  diiiereut  groups  of  muscuhir 
movements,'  the  "  motor  zone  "  comprising  homologous 
areas  in  the  two  great  lateral  halves  of  the  brain.  The 
centres  for  the  special  senses  are  less  exactly  deter- 
mined ;  but  it  is  probable  that  in  the  near  future  our 
knowledge  will  be  extended  to  such  a  degree  that  all  the 
phenomena  of  the  simple  sensor  and  motor  conscious- 
ness will  have  well-determined  anatomical  representa- 
tion in  the  brain  and  cerebral  ganglia. 

One  of  the  most  difficult  and  important  questions  yet  re- 
maining open  is  the  determination  of  the  particular  regions 
which  contribute  to  consciousness,  i.e.,  which  are  sensory. 
Are  we  conscious  of  the  motor  centres  at  all,  or  is  all  our  con- 
sciousness of  movement,  as  well  as  other  sensibility,  mediated 
by  elements  which  are  only  sensory  ?  And  may  sensory  areas 
be  also  motor  ?  That  motor  and  sensory  functions  may  at  least 
be  performed  by  the  same  areas,  is  shown  by  Shiifer"  and 
Munk/  who  find  (in  opposition  to  Ferrier)  definite  move- 
ments of  the  eyes  following  electrical  stimulation  of  tlie  sight 
(sensory)  centre  (occipital  lobe)  in  dogs  and  monkeys.*  It  is 
possible  (Munk)  tliat  this  centre  controls  reflex  eye-move- 
ments, and  that  the  eye-movement  centre  in  the  liolandic 
region  is  the  seat  of  voluntary  movements.  This  view  agrees 
with  the  suggestion  of  Bianchi '  tliat  the  ordinary  stimulation 
of  the  motor  areas  does  not  pass  directly  out  to  the  nerves, 
but  passes  first  through  the  sensory  centres:  a  position  sup- 
ported by  all  cases  of  sensory  eifects  following  the  stimulation 
of  motor  areas.  Beaunis  holds  that  the  motor  elements  have 
an  immediate  element  of  consciousness.    The  possible  absence 

'  Sue  Senses  and  Intellect,  fronlispiece,  aud  p.  114. 
'  Proc.  Roy.  Soc,  vol.  43. 

*  See  Amer.  Jour,  of  Psyr.h.,  in.  p.  873. 

*  Schilfer  is  led  to  the  position  tlial  the  visual  area  represents  in  some 
detail  a  projection  of  the  retina  upon  the  cortex.  This  would  seem  to 
give  countenance  to  the  view  (Lot7X')  that  the  "  local  signs"  for  the  ret- 
ina (cf.  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  viii.  §  4)  are  relative  dcfrrces  of  mus- 
cular innervation:  since  this  projection  is  an  ariangenient  of  motor 
functions. 

'  Quoted  by  Donaldson,  Amer.  Jour.  Psych.,  in.  p.  551. 


40  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

of  consciousness  in  the  case  of  reflex  reactions  performed  by 
the  cord  may  be  accounted  for  by  the  recent  discovery 
claimed  by  Kolliiver,  that  there  are  in  the  cord  no  sensory 
cells  (i.e.,  cells  having  processes  continuous  with  incoming 
sensory  nerves).' 

The  phenomena  of  the  apperceptive  consciousness^ 
being  complex  and  coordinative,  present  analogies  which 
would  lead  to  the  view  that  their  physiological  basis 
consists  largely  in  connections  among  these  definite 
areas,  i.e.,  by  the  associative  fibres.  Yet  the  hypothesis 
of  centres  for  such  coordinations,  points  of  convergence 
of  intracentral  connections,  is  gaining  prominence  and 
anatomical  support ;  the  centre  for  the  coordination  of 
movements  being — or  at  least  involving — the  cerebellum,* 
and  the  intellectual  operations  having  their  represen- 
tation in  the  frontal  lobes.' 

Facts  of  Specialization.  A  general  fact  or  two  may 
be  mentioned  in  view  of  subsequent  points  of  discus- 
sion. In  the  tw^o  halves  or  hemispheres  of  the  brain  we 
are  led  to  recognize  a  twofold  or  duplicate  organ,  anal- 
ogous to  the  doubleness  of  the  eyes  while  performing 
together  a  vsingle  function.  In  regard  to  the  function  of 
the  brain  as  a  whole,  we  may  say  that  in  the  main  it  is 
performed  equally  well  by  either  hemisphere  alone.  If 
one  hemisphere  be  entirely  removed  or  destroyed,  there 
is  no  perceptible  impairment  of  the  mind,  at  least  in  its 
great  apperceptive  activities.  The  hemispheres  are  more- 
over capable  of  separate  activities  at  the  same  time  :  the 
movements  of  organs  on  the  right  side  of  the  body 
which  are  governed  by  the  motor  area  in  the  left  hemi- 
sphere may  be  different  from  simultaneous  movements 

'  ZeitscJirift  fur  wiss.  Zoologie,  Dec.  1890.    See  resume  by  Donaldson, 
Amer.  Jour.  Psych.,  in.  p.  548. 

2  Wundt,  P/iys.  Psych.,  3d  ed.,  i.  pp.  210-13. 
'  Fenier,  loc.  cit. 


PRINCIPLE  OF  SPECIALIZATION.  41 

on  the  left  side  governed  bj  the  motor  area  in  the  right 
hemisphere.  Again,  there  are  certain  functions  which 
are  presided  over  bj  one  of  the  hemispheres  exclusivelv, 
the  other  having  no  part  in  them  :  the  motor  speech- 
centre  is  in  the  left  hemisphere  for  right-handed  persons, 
and  it  is  probable  that  there  is  a  corresponding  func- 
tional development  for  the  delicate  movements  of  one 
hand  only,  as  in  writing,  etc.  Accordingly,  instead  of 
considering  the  brain  with  Brown-Sequard '  as  two  dupli- 
cate organs,  either  of  which  might  be  educated  to  per- 
form all  the  cerebral  offices,  we  have  to  consider  it  as  a 
double  organ  whose  functions  are  partly  separate  and 
partly  conjoint.  That  is,  the  facts  point  to  the  con- 
clusion that  (a)  there  is  a  class  of  functions  over  which 
the  hemispheres  have  conjoint  dominion  :  functions 
which  they  may  perform  together  and  which  either  may 
perform  alone,  and  functions  which  they  must  perform 
together  and  cannot  perform  alone  ;  and  (6)  there  are 
functions  which  are  peculiar  to  each  alone :  which  one 
must  perform  alone,  and  in  which  the  other  never  has  a 
share. 

The  great  divisions  of  function  may  be  stated  in  gen- 
eral terms  under  three  heads  in  accordance  with  the 
facts  now  presented. 

1.  Purely  reflex  functions  are  presided  over  by  the 
spinal  cord  and  lower  centres. 

.       2.  The   automatic   functions   proceed   out   from  the 
1"  central"  and  "  tegmental  "  systems  of  centres. 

3.  Sensation  and  voluntary  movement  have  their  seat 
in  man  in  the  cortex  of  the  brain.  Secondary-automatic 
reactions  are  those  which  have  passed  down  from  the 
hemispheres  into  the  lower  systems,  in  such  a  way  that 
while  the  connections  remain  with  the  hemisjjhcrcs,  yet 
tlie  latter  are  no  longer  necessar}-  to  bring  tliese  reac- 
tions into  i^lay. 

'  See  his  popular  statement  in  the  Forum,  vol.  v.  No.  2,  p.  109. 


42 


THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 


If  1.  and  2.  be  considered  together  as  giving  only 
one  degree  of  complexity,  and  3.  be  added  as  giving 
another  degree,  we  may  show  their  relation  by  Fig.  10. 

For  convenience  in  later  discussion,  the  higher  reac- 
tion may  be  taken  alone  and  simplified,  as  in  Fig.  11, 
called  the  "  motor  square ;"  in  which  we  have  the  three 
elements  as  before  {sp,  mp,  mt)  with  an  added  element 
{mc),  i.e.,  the  consciousness  of  movement  accomplished 
(represented  by  the  dotted  line  [mc]  in  Fig.  10). 


mc 


tense  orsfcm 


muscle 


Fig.  10. 


Fig.  11. 


s,  c,  mt  =  reflex  circuit  (1.  and  2.  of  text). 

s,  c,  sp,  mp,  c,  mt  =  voluntary  circuit  (3.  of  text). 

The  degree  to  which  the  cortex  serves  the  purposes 
of  mind  above  the  bare  reception  of  present  stimuli  and 
mechanical  reaction  upon  them,  is  seen  in  the  behavior 
of  animals  deprived  of  the  cortex.'  Frogs  and  pigeons 
have  been  fully  tested  in  view  of  this  question.  It  is 
found,  in  brief,  that  the  life  and  reactions  of  the  creature 
are  unimpaired  as  far  as  the  immediate  environment  is 
concerned  :  it  lives,  breathes,  flies,  sees,  eats,  carries  out 


'  See  James,    loc.  cit.,  i.  pp.  14-27  and  pp.  72-80,  with  his  refer- 
ences to  Gollz  and  Schrader  (Imager's  Archiv,  vols.  41,  43,  and  44). 


PRINCIPLE  OF  SPECIALIZATION.  43 

all  reactions  of  response  to  direct  stimulation.  But  it 
fails  to  respond  to  remote  stimuli :  the  reactions  are  for 
the  most  part  uninfluenced  either  by  the  past  or  the  future. 
The  creature  lacks  spontaneity.  Memory  has  disap- 
peared ;  so  have  generalization  and  purpose.  The  crea- 
ture has  sensations,  but  not  perceptions,  as  far  as  a  line  can 
be  drawn  between  these  states.  It  fails  utterly  to  recog- 
nize, and  it  fails  to  attend.  It  is  plain,  then,  that  such  a 
liemisphereless  creature  lacks  largely  the  coordinating, 
retaining,  relating,  in  a  word  the  apperceiving,  function. 
It  illustrates  perfectly  what,  on  Hume's  theory  of  knowl- 
edge, ought  to  be  the  condition  of  us  all.  The  terms 
jo-s2/c/H'c-blindness,  psyc/i/c-deafuess,  etc.,  are  given  to 
this  condition,  in  which  there  is  no  physical  blindness, 
etc.,  but  in  which  sensations  have  lost  all  mental  meaning. 

As  for  particular  reactions,  however,  the  greatest  difference 
is  found  in  different  animals.  In  dogs  and  birds  many  func- 
tions are  performed  by  the  lower  centres  wliich  are  presided 
over  by  tlie  liemispheres  exclusively  in  monkeys  and  in  man. 
This  illustrates  what  has  been  observed  above,  i.e.,  that  what 
is  at  one  time  reasonable  and  intelligent  may  become  nervous 
and  mechanical:  and  this  consideration,  based  upon  extended 
experimental  proof,  leads  us  to  recognize  below  the  great  elas- 
ticity of  the  system  as  regards  specializatictn.  When  these 
maimed  animals  are  kept  alive,  their  condition  improves,  and 
they  begin  to  get  something  of  their  intelligence  back  again. 

In  man  the  destruction  of  the  frontal  lobes  seems  to 
bring  about  a  higher  kind  of  "  psychic  l)lindness  :"  a  loss 
of  voluntary  attention,  coordination,  and  thought.  Tlie 
hypothesis  is  widely  current  that  these  lobes  are  the 
final  centre  of  convergence  for  the  connections  between 
the  sensory  and  motor  centres  of  the  brain.'  The  loss 
of  connection  between  this  seat  and  any  other  area  cuts 
the  latter,  with  its  store  of  memories,  oft'  from  its  full  role 
in  the  mental  life.    For  example,  speech  may  be  im])aired 

'  A  late  advocate  is  Bianchi.     See  Amer.  Journ.  Psych.,  iii.  p.  5/51. 


44  THE  NERV0U8  SYSTEM. 

bj  the  loss  of  any  one  of  three  functions  located  in  dif- 
ferent areas,  i.e.,  word-seeing,  word-hearing,  and  word- 
uttering.  ' 

This  evident  division  of  work  throughout  the  parts  of  the 
system  led  the  older  ph3'siologists  to  propound  the  theory  of 
"specific  energies."  E.  H.  Weber  gave  currency  to  the  doc- 
trine that  each  separate  sense-nerve  reacted  by  reason  of  a 
separate  specific  kind  of  force.  The  optic  nerve,  for  exam- 
ple, has  a  specific  optic-nerve  force,  the  auditory  nerve  an 
auditory-nerve  force,  etc.  This  multiplication  of  forces  was 
made  to  extend  to  different  areas  wherever  their  functions  were 
clearly  distinguished.  The  next  paragraph  will  show  that 
this  theory  is  now  abandoned.  The  fact  of  necessary  conjoint 
action  of  the  hemispheres  also  leads  to  the  limitation  of  the 
principle  of  specialization  which  follows.  The  dynamic  con- 
ception of  the  system  would  lead  us  to  expect  it. 

II.  Principle  of  Indifference  of  Function.  The  princi- 
ple of  indifference  includes  the  class  of  facts  which  show 
that  the  nerve-courses  are  not  the  agents  of  different  or 
specific  forces,  but  parts  of  a  common  system  and  agents 
of  a  common  life.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  find  that 
diiierent  courses  can  be  made  to  perform  each  other's 
function.  If  a  piece  of  sensor  nerve  be  joined  to  a  cut 
end  of  a  motor  nerve  and  grow  in  place,  it  will  conduct 
the  motor  impulse  continuously  with  the  motor  piece.'' 
The  contrary  is  also  true.  The  range  of  such  experi- 
ments is  very  limited,  since  it  is  impossible  to  exchange 
the  end-connections  of  nerves  either  centrally  or  periph- 
erally :  but  the  facts  at  hand  establish  conclusively  the 
principle  of  indifference  as  regards  the  sensor  and  motor 
nerve-tracts.  In  its  appliction  to  the  centres  the  same 
principle  has  a  different  name,  since  it  takes  a  somewhat 

'  See  Wundt's  diagram  of  the  "apperceptive  centre,"  Phys.  Psych., 
3(1  ed.,  I.  p.  23a. 

^  See  Bert's  s'.iccessful  experiments  at  reversing  a  rat's  tail  ;  also 
Ktiline,  Archiv  filr  Anatomie  u.  Physiologic,  1859,  and  Proc.  Roy.  Soc, 
XLiv.  p.  4o5  f. 


PRINCIPLE  OF  SUBSTITUTION.  4"> 

diflereut  form  of  mauifestation,  i.e.,  the  principle  of  sub- 
stitution. 

III.  Principle  of  Substitution.  The  question  here  is 
this :  Can  the  nerve-centres  be  made  to  take  up  each 
other's  function  ?  Researches  in  cerebral  localization, 
chiefly  upon  animals,  tend  to  show  that  such  a  substitution 
of  function  is  possible,  at  least  to  a  limited  degree.  The 
removal  of  a  cortical  centre,  which  occasions  loss  of  one 
of  the  special  senses,  saj  sight,  or  the  loss  of  control 
over  a  certain  muscular  area,  seems  to  be  made  good  by 
the  assumption  of  the  deranged  function  by  a  contiguous 
or,  at  least,  a  connected  centre.  At  any  rate,  the  animal 
recovers  if  kept  alive  a  sufficiently  long  period.  The 
word  "seems"  is  used  advisedly,  for  it  is  still  uncertain 
whether  the  loss  of  such  a  function  is  due  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  entire  apparatus  normally  reacting  to  this 
function,  or  to  its  partial  loss,  the  remaining  elements 
being  temporarily  inhibited  by  so-called  "  physiological 
shock,"  '  or,  in  the  case  of  electrical  stimulation,  by  diffu- 
sion of  the  current.  The  latter  is  known  to  be  the  case 
in  many  of  the  experiments  on  brain-tissue,  especially 
when  the  surgical  method  is  employed  without  the  ex- 
tremest  care.  This  latter  view  is  also  sup])orted  by  the 
remarkable  fact  that  in  the  monkey  and  man  these  sub- 
stitutions are  exceedingly  rare  ;  a  result  we  would  expect 
on  the  shock  theory,  considering  the  higher  degree  of 
delicacy  and  differentiation  attained  by  tlie  system  in 
these  higher  organisms.  Yet  in  the  case  of  rabbits  and 
dogs,  such  substitution  of  function,  nota1)ly  of  the  sight- 
function,  is  probably  established  on  a  firm  basis. 

The  physiological  ground  of  central  substitution  is 
therefore  a  legitimate  problem  in  any  conception  of  the 
nervous  sj'stem  as  a  whole.     The  coiiception  hero  advo- 


Cf.  Lcwcs,  Phys.  Basis  of  Mind,  p.  183. 


46  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

cated  meets  this  demand  with  sufficient  clearness.  In 
organisms  in  which  the  reflex  reactions  predominate,  in 
which  the  "  downward  "  growth  has  led  to  the  consolida- 
tion of  the  greater  part  of  the  system  in  ganglionic  centres, 
we  would  expect  that  the  higher  fimctions,  the  centres 
for  complex  delicate  movements,  would  be  more  depend- 
ent and  unformed.  Consequently,  when  they  are  inter- 
fered with,  the  ganglionic  centres,  being  still  in  close 
anatomical  connection  with  them,  would  regain  the  func- 
tion which  they  formerly  performed.  Thus  sensori- 
motor ganglionic  connections  which  have  fallen  into 
disuse  through  the  growth  of  higher  centres  recover 
their  lost  activity  under  the  stimulus  of  a  serious  and 
dangerous  lesion.  It  is  nothing  more  than  a  reversion 
of  function  by  a  reverse  process  of  adaptation. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  the  case  of  man,  the  law  of 
"upward"  growth  has  reached  its  fullest  application: 
the  cortical  centres  have  become  independent  of  their 
ganglionic  confreres,  and,  in  their  loss,  an  irreparable 
damage  is  sustained.  In  this  latter  case,  it  is  a  general 
in  the  army  who  has  fallen,  and  no  subordinate  officer 
can  fill  his  place  :  in  the  former  case,  it  is  a  captain  that 
is  lost  and  his  lieutenant  is  easily  promoted.'  In  the 
lower  animals  as  well  as  in  man,  the  automatic  functions 
are  relatively  independent  of  the  higher  centres. 

Both  the  foregoing  principles,  Indifference  and  Substitu- 
tion, become  clearer  when  we  revert  to  the  dynamic  aspect  of 
the  system.  If  it  be  true  that  tlie  whole  system  is  one  charged 
with  a  common  force,  and  reacting  in  support  of  a  common 
life,  then  we  would  expect  that  the  courses  would  be  inter- 
changeable. They  would  be  principally  avenues  of  transfer 
of  a  tension  over  and  above  their  separate  dynamic  capacity; 
and  why  should  they  not  serve  for  such  transfer  in  one  direc- 
tion— or  for  one  sense — as  well  as  another  ?  And  as  for  the 
ceritres,  their  substitution  would  be  limited  only  by  the  con- 
ditions of  their  anatomical  connections:  the  very  distinction 

'  This  hypothesis  is  recognized  by  Foster,  loc.  cit.,  5th  ed.,  p.  1062. 


PBINCIPLE  OF  SPECIFIC  CONNECTION.  47 

we  were  led  to  make  above,  in  accountiDg  for  the  differences 
between  men  and  dogs  in  this  respect.' 

IV.  Principle  of  Specific  Connection.  The  limits  wliich 
the  growth  of  the  organism  sets  to  the  substitution  of 
functions  find  their  exjDression  in  what  is  called  "  specific 
connection"  through  the  system.  By  this  princijjle  is 
meant,  in  general,  two  things  :  first,  that  nerve-courses 
are  specific  only  according  as  they  have  certain  well- 
defined  connections  at  centre  or  periphery.  These  con- 
nections keep  the  courses  to  an  invariable  function.  The 
optic  nerve  has  a  specific  connection  with  the  retina  and 
with  the  optic  centre  in  the  brain  ;  the  auditory  nerve 
T.ith  the  ear  and  the  centre  for  hearing ;  and  so  on.  In 
this  case,  it  is  the  end-organ  or  the  centre  which  is  spe- 
cific, not  the  nerve-tract.  And  second,  it  means  that 
nerve-centres  are  specific  according  as  their  connections 
necessitate  their  reacting  to  a  specific  stimulus.  The 
optic  centre  has  specific  connections  with  the  retina 
through  the  optic  nerve  ;  the  centre  for  sounds  with 
the  ear,  through  the  optic  nerve,  and  so  on.  Now 
there  are  as  many  of  these  specific  connections  as  there 
are  kinds  of  stimuli  issuing  in  motor  reactions.  Conse- 
quently, the  only  specific  things  after  all  are  the  stimulus 
and  the  movement. 

This,  again,  is  a  conclusion  quite  in  harmony  with  our 
dynamic  conception.  There  is  nothing  specific  about  a  sew- 
ing-machine except  the  force  that  runs  it  and  the  garment  it 
sews  :  its  function  is  sewing,  not  revolving,  nor  pricking,  nor 
buzzing,  hqwever  specific  each  one  of  these,  considered  for 
itself,  might  be,  apart  from  the  sewing  function. 

V.  Principle  of  Summation  of  Stimuli.'  If  the  stimu- 
lus more  than  overcomes  the  arrest  in  a  given  case,  there 

'  For  an  alile  recent  discussion  of  the  facts  irivolvcfi,  sec  Jumes,  loc. 
cit.,  I.  pp   07-72. 

''For  references  on  pliysiological  suiiinmtioii,  see  James,  Princ.  of 
Pnych.,  I.  PI).  82  83. 


48  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

is  left  over,  so  to  speak,  a  surplus  of  positive  energy,  or 
positive  "  molecular  work."  This  positive  molecular 
work  is  work  of  reaction,  or  exhaustion  of  the  sj^stem  ; 
negative  work  being  inhibitory  or  conserving.  This  sur- 
plus represents,  therefore,  a  disposition  favorable  to  a 
second  stimulus  of  the  same  kind.  We  have,  therefore, 
here  a  certain  summation  of  stimuli  in  cases  of  recurring 
excitations  of  the  same  character.  After  moving  the 
thumbs  in  a  certain  rotatory  manner  a  certain  number 
of  times,  we  saj'  they  are  "  ready"  for  that  movement ; 
they  have  taken  on  a  disjjosition  to  react  to  the  same 
stimulus  again.  This  union  of  former  stimuli  with 
later  in  the  nervous  centre,'  giving  an  easier  and 
smoother  reaction,  is  the  phenomenon  of  summation.  Its 
most  remarkable  exhibition  is  seen  in  cases  in  which  the 
earlier  stimulus  is  not  sufficient  to  overcome  the  arrest 
or  inertia  of  the  centre,  and  does  not  give  a  reaction  at 
all ;  so  a  weak  electrical  stimulus  :  even  here  we  find  the 
centre  so  "  prepared  "  by  this  insufficient  stimulus  that 
it  responds  when  that  identical  stimulus  is  repeated 
a  sufficient  number  of  times.  The  most  favorable  inter- 
val between  such  shocks  is  about  .001  second.  The  suc- 
cessive blows  of  Savart's  wheel  upon  a  metallic  tongue 
give  an  audible  sound  when  a  single  such  blow  is  inau- 
dible. The  application  of  this  principle  to  disprove 
unconscio^cs  sensations  has  already  been  made.^ 

The  different  senses  vary  very  much  in  the  interval 
of  time  necessary  between  successive  stimulations  to 
prevent  summation  or  fusion ;  the  finger  discriminates 
1000  touches  per  second :  an  interval  of  .002  sec.  is 
sufficient  to  keep  sharp  sounds  apart :  electric  shocks 
fuse  if  more  than  60  occur  per  second  (forehead ;  but  in 

'Not  iu  the  courses:  cf.  Ricliel,  Eecliercl/es  sur  la  Sensibilite,  i)p. 
174  ff.  See  also  his  figures  showing  the  phenomena  of  summation  as 
graphically  recorded  (pp.  171,  176,  and  186). 

*  See  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  iv.  §  2. 


FINAL  STATEMENT  OF  NERVOUS  FUNCTION.        49 

some  parts  of  the  body  tlie  number  is  much  less).  With 
seusatious  of  sight,  the  fusion  occurs  across  a  greater 
interval,  say  .05  sec,  by  reason  of  the  persistence  of 
optical  after-images.' 

§  5.  Final  Statement  of  Nervous  Function. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  give  the  general  concep- 
tion of  nervous  function  in  broadest  statement :  a  state- 
ment the  accepted  terms  of  which  have  great  psycho- 
logical significance.  All  the  phenomena  of  consolidation 
{sch'fpfen,  "  downward  growth "),  on  the  one  hand,  il- 
lustrate what  is  known  as  the  law  of  Habit;  all  the 
phenomena  of  specialization  ("  upward  growth  ")  illus- 
trate the  law  of  Accommodation  ;  and  the  results  of  the 
two  together,  as  transmitted  by  generation,  illustrate  the 
law  of  Inheritance. 

I.  Law  of  Habit.  Physiologically,  habit  means  readi- 
ness for  function,  produced  by  previous  exercise  of  the 
function.  Anatomically,  it  means  the  arrangement  of 
elements  more  suitably  for  a  function,  in  consequence  of 
former  modifications  of  arrangement  through  that  func- 
tion. Psychologically,  it  means  loss  of  oversight,  diffu- 
sion of  attention,  subsiding  consciousness. 

II.  Law  of  Accommodation.  Phj^siologically  and 
anatomically,  accommodation  means  the  breaking  up  of 
a  habit,  the  widening  of  the  organic  for  the  reception  or 
accommodation  of  a  new  condition.  Psychologically,  it 
means  reviving  consciousness,  concentration  of  atten- 
tion, voluntary  control — the  mental  state  which  has  its 
most  general  expression  in  what  we  know  as  Interest.^ 
In  Hal)it  and  Interest  we  find  the  psychological  poles 
corresponding  to  the  lowest  and  the  highest  in  the  ac- 
tivities (jf  the  nervous  system. 

'  Fi(;k,  HirinannH  Ildiulbuch,  iii,  1. 

'See  the  discussion  of  luterest  below,  Chap.  VII.  §  1. 


50  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

III.  Law  of  Inheritance.  The  broader  statement  of 
nervous  development  takes  the  subject  out  of  the  expe- 
rience of  the  individual  into  that  of  the  race  or  species. 
Not  only  is  the  nervous  system  an  integration  during  the 
life  of  the  individual  organism,  but  it  proceeds  upon  the 
integrations  effected  in  the  life  of  earlier  individuals  of 
its  kind.  This  means  that  potential  integrations  and 
systems  of  integrations  are  inherited.  The  offspring  of 
a  rabbit  is  born  with  the  nervous  system  of  a  rabbit : 
that  of  a  man  with  the  nervous  system  of  a  man.  There 
is,  therefore,  continuity  of  development  throughout  the 
life  of  a  species,  its  limits  being  the  limits  of  possible 
generation. 

This  law  widens  our  outlook  and  introduces  us  to  the  philo- 
sophical doctrine  of  evolution.  As  a  philosophical  doctrine, 
we  have  nothing  to  say  about  it  here.  We  have  indicated 
above  the  extreme  limit  to  which  general  psychology  may  go 
in  the  matter  of  the  nervous  basis  of  consciousness  ;  namely, 
inheritance  within  the  limits  of  possible  generation.  Even 
though,  as  a  philosophical  doctrine,  nervous  evolution  be  con- 
sidered established,  psychology  would  still  await  the  establish- 
ing of  a  corresponding  doctrine  of  mental  evolution,  before 
the  discussion  would  have  special  interest  and  value  for  her 
interpretations.' 

On  the  nervous  system,  consult :  the  physiologies  generally,  of 
which  Foster,  Textbook  of  Physiology,  5th  ed.,  part  ni,  is  very  reli- 
able; on  special  points  of  research,  Hermann,  Handhuch  der  Physiolo- 
gie;  on  brain  anatomy  and  physiology,  Edinger,  Structure  of  the  Cen- 
tral Nervous  System. ;  Obersteiner,  Central  Nervous  Organs  ;  Ferrier, 
Functions  of  the  Brain,  2d  ed.;  Wundt,  Physiologisohe  Psycholo- 
gic, 3d  ed.,  I,  erster  Ahsch.  ;  Ladd,  Elements  of  Physiological 
Psychology,  part  i,  also  Chitlines  of  Phys.  Psych.;  James,  Psy- 
chology, I,  chaps,  n.  and  ni.  Special  articles  of  great  value  are 
found  in  Archie  fur  Anatomie  und  Physiologic  (Du  Bois-Rey- 
mond's)  and  Archivfur  die  gesammte  Physlologie  (Pfliiger's). 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 

Physiological  methods  and  results. 
Histology  of  the  nervous  system. 
Physiology  of  inhibition. 
Heredity. 
Organic  evolution. 

'  See  further  remarks  ou  psychological  inheritauce,  below,  Chap.  III. 

§7. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

The  most  general  problem  involved  in  a  conception 
of  the  relation  of  body  and  mind  is  the  rise  of  con- 
sciousness. Yet  the  problem  has  psychological  signifi- 
cance mainly  as  throwing  possible  light  upon  the  nature 
of  consciousness.  With  the  philosophical  question  as 
to  whether  the  nervous  system  produces  consciousness, 
or  whether  consciousness  is  something  essentially  im- 
material, however  it  may  be  entangled  in  material  condi- 
tions, we  are  not  here  concerned.  Indeed,  it  ma}''  be 
said  further  that  empirical  psychology  has  no  right  to 
ask  such  a  question.  We  found  the  fundamental  postu- 
late of  such  a  science  to  be  consciousness,  inner  aspect ', 
and  to  go  back  of  this  postulate  is  to  subvert  the 
science  altogether.  Granted  a  consciousness,  however 
it  arose,  our  questions  are  :  What  is  in  it?  and,  What  is 
it  capable  of  ?  The  reader  is,  therefore,  here  concerned 
with  the  class  of  problems  which  arise  from  the  con- 
comitance of  certain  physical  changes  with  certain 
aspects  of  consciousness. 

§  1.    Nervous  Conditions  of  Consciousness. 

General  Conditions.  This  general  question  is  in  too 
unsettled  a  condition  to  detain  us  long.  There  are  two 
great  theories  of  the  physical  basis  of  consciousness  : 
the   first,  represented   by  Mr.  Lewes,'  holds   that   the 

'Held  also  by  Bain  (Emotions  and  Will,   Appendix  A),  and  in  a 
modified  form  l;y  Wuudt. 

61 


52        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

nerve-process,  considered  in  its  most  general  form 
as  irritability,  is  everywhere  conscious.  On  this  view, 
consciousness  is  distinguished  in  a  twofold  way  from 
the  individual  circumscribed  area  of  personal  experi- 
ence. In  the  first  place,  it  is  distinguished  from  seJf- 
consciousness  ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  from  the  vague 
early  consciousness  of  the  child,  which  exists  only  in 
connection  with  the  brain.  Each  nervous  centre,  each 
so-called  arc,  has  its  own  consciousness,  and  the  ordi- 
nary consciousness  of  the  individual  is  only  the  highest 
of  many  that  we  all  possess.  The  brain-consciousness 
is  the  only  one  we  are  conscious  of,  so  to  speak  ;  but  y 
there  is  consciousness  in  the  spinal  cord  and  in  ganglia 
wherever  we  find  them.  The  other  theory,  or  class 
of  theories,  holds'  that  a  given  degree  of  development 
is  necessary  before  consciousness  is  found  at  all.  In 
the  development  of  the  system,  therefore,  consciousness 
appears  only  at  a  certain  stage  of  integration  or  "up- 
ward growth."  This  theory  is  generally  accepted, 
though  for  purposes  of  division  rather  than  from  posi- 
tive argument.  In  the  nature  of  the  case,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  disprove  consciousness  in  lower  centres,  as  has 
already  been  shown  in  arguing  against  the  unconscious.* 
The  distinction,  however,  is  held  to  be  necessary,  as  in- 
dicating the  bounds  of  the  mental  objectively  consid- 
ered. For  instance,  Romanes"  and  James  give  selective 
choice  or  adaptation  as  the  criterion  of  mind  or  con- 
sciousness ;  but  the  difficulty  of  saying  whether  the 
adaptations  of  the  brainless  frog,  for  example,  show 
conscious  choice,  or  mere  delicacy  of  mechanical  reac- 
tion, remains  just  as  great." 

'  So,  among  receut  writers,  Msiudsley,  Scliu eider,  James,  Feirier 
and  the  psychologists  quite  generally. 

*  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  iv. 

'  Mental  Evolution  in  Anirnals,  p.  49. 

*  Schneider  attempts  to  mediate  between  these  two  views,  as  I  un- 
derstand him,  Tlderische  Wille,  pp.  151-4  ;    he  holds   that  all  reflexes 


NERVOUS  CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS.  53 

It  also  seems  true  that  consciousness  represents  a 
condition  of  slow,  difficult,  and  impeded — consequently 
of  liiglily  developed  and  well-balanced — integration. 
The  smoothest  reflexes  are  not  conscious  ;  the  hard- 
fought  decisions  are  most  conscious.  It  seems  likely, 
therefore,  that  some  degree  of  inhibition  is  necessary  in 
the  nervous  basis — at  any  rate  for  vivid  consciousness.' 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  considerations  which 
are  giving  more  prominence  to  the  view  of  Mr.  Lewes 
at  present.  They  tend  to  show  that  our  distinctions 
are  arbitrary,  and  open  the  door  at  least  for  pre- 
sumptive evidence  that  consciousness  is  coextensive 
with  nervous  reactions.  Among  these  considerations 
are  recent  experimental  proofs  of  multiple  personalities 
which  may  be  induced  in  the  same  nervous  organism  in 
the  hypnotic  state."  The  explanation  is  at  least  a  tempt- 
ing one,  that,  the  higher  centres  being  inhibited,  their 
conscious  content  is  wanting,  and  the  lower  centres  sup- 
ply experience  which  was  before  outside  the  conscious 
area.  Again,  in  the  scale  of  animal  organisms,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  draw  a  line  denoting  the  point  of  nervous  com- 
plexity below  which  there  is  no  consciousness.  The  fact 
of  a  possible  substitution  of  function  between  the  brain 
and  spinal  ganglia  spoken  of  above,  would  indicate  a 
possible  common  element  of  consciousness. 

To  these  considerations  we  will  not  add  the  metaphysical 
one  that  perhaps  the  integration  of  consciousnesses  in  an  all- 
embracing  divine  consciousness,  so  long  souglit  by  thinkers 
■who  desiderate  a  monism  of  mind  which  is  still  not  panthe- 
ism, may  find  a  valid  analogy  in  the  integration  of  snbordi- 

involve  consciousness  at  their  first  establishment  in  race  experience, 
but  have  become  independent  of  it,  just  as  a  chain  of  volunlary  move- 
ments comes  to  need  conscious  volition  only  at  the  beginning  of  its 
play. 

'  See  Mr.  Spencer's  hypothesis  to  explain  this  nervous  condition, 
Princ.  of  PnychoLofjy,  ^  190. 

'  Pierre  Janet,  Automatisme  rsycholorjique. 


54        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

nate  consciousnesses  in  the  unit  personality  of  man.  At  any 
rate,  it  is  a  ready  hypothesis,  and  in  the  present  state  of  dis- 
cussion Lewes  has  the  apparent  advantage,  however  much  he 
would  deprecate  this  metaphysical  application  of  it.  The 
theory  that  consciousness  occurs  wherever  we  find  nervous 
elements  has  a  broad  philosophical  construction  in  the  so- 
called  ''  double-aspect  theory,"  according  to  which  mind  and 
matter  are  a  single  fact,  looked  at  from  two  aspects,  the  inner 
and  the  outer.  If  consciousness  is  present  in  the  elements 
of  the  nervous  tissue,  apart  from  the  unit  consciousness  of 
the  organism  as  a  whole,  what  limit  can  we  set  theoretically 
to  the  recognition  of  an  inner  aspect  in  objects  in  nature 
where  a  unit  consciousness  is  entirely  absent  ?  Beginning 
with  Leibnitz,  this  theory  finds  its  latest,  and  perhaps  its 
acutest,  advocate  in  Prof.  Wundt.* 

Particular  Conditions.  A  further  question  arises  as 
to  the  immediate  conditions  of  consciousness  in  the 
nervous  centres.  Given  a  nervous  organism  capable  of 
consciousness,  on  what  particular  state  or  aspect  of  it 
does  the  continuous  presence  of  consciousness  depend  ? 
Here,  again,  recent  views  are  little  more  than  guesses. 
The  view  supported  by  Herzen^  seems  to  have  most 
evidence,  i.e.,  that  consciousness  arises  from  the  break- 
ing down  or  expenditure  of  the  cellular  structure  in 
the  highest  centres.  This  is  concluded  from  the  fact 
that  the  attention,  a  state  of  concentration  and  expendi- 
ture, is  the  state  of  most  vivid  consciousness ;  that  con- 
sciousness is  most  vague  and  indistinct  when  no  brain- 
work  is  being  done,  as  in  cases  of  dolce  far  niente  or 
diffused  attention  ;  that  unconsciousness  is  most  nearly- 
reached  in  sleep  and  analogous  states  when  all  brain- 
processes  have  subsided  from  the  lack  of  sensory  stim- 
uli or  motor  impulse.  The  chemical  results  of  active 
thought,  increased  heat,  and  organic-waste  deposits  in 
the  brain,  would  indicate  chemical  work  and  disiutegra- 


'  For  a  criticism  of  Wundt's  view  see  tlie  writer's  article  ou  "  Ee- 
cent  MateriaU><m"  iu  the  Prenb.  and  Reformed  Review,  July  1890,  p.  364. 
^  La  Condizione  fisica  della  Coscienza,  reprint  from  the  Proceedings 
of  the  Academy  of  Florence,  1879. 


SENTIENCE  AND  SENSIBILITY.  65 

tion.  Sucli  a  theory,  however,  to  be  consistent,  would 
have  its  application  only  after  the  organism  had  at- 
tained the  requisite  development  in  general  structure  for 
the  presence  of  consciousness — if  we  hold  the  current 
theory  that  consciousness  is  not  coordinate  with  nerve- 
centres.  Perhaps  the  possibility  of  applying  the  present 
hypothesis  of  Herzen  to  nerve-tissue  generally  may  be 
an  additional  point  of  proof  of  a  coordination  of  con- 
sciousness and  nervous  function  throughout. 

It  is  also  true  that  consciousness  depends  upon  the  nor- 
mal condition  of  the  mechanism  as  a  whole.  Any  failure  in 
the  blood-supply  (anaemia)  leads  to  faintness  and  fainting, 
and  the  same  result  often  follows  from  congestion  of  blood 
in  tlie  brain  (hyper«mia).  In  general  we  may  say  that  the 
healthful  activity  of  the  brain,  in  its  normal  physiological  re- 
lations, gives  clear  consciousness.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind, 
also,  that  all  hypotlieses  as  to  the  conditions  in  which  it 
arises,  shed  no  light  on  what  consciousness  is.  On  this  point 
even  the  biologist  Schneider  is  clear.' 


§  2.  Sentience  and  Sensibility. 

It  has  become  apparent  that  nervous  activity  con- 
sidered for  itself  alone  does  not  bring  us  into  the  range 
of  psychological  science.  However  we  may  decide  the 
inquiry  as  to  whether  such  activity  is  ever  entirely  free 
from  consciousness,  it  is  yet  true  that  it  may  be  quite 
outside  of  what  is  called  the  individual's  consciousness. 
The  man  is  not  conscious  after  the  guillotine  has  done 
its  work,  however  active  the  nervous  reflexes  of  his 
limbs  may  be,  and  however  firmly  we  may  believe  that 
his  spinal  ganglia  have  an  inner  aspect.  In  other 
words,  the  greater  part  of  our  ordinary  nervous  reactions 
are  not  above  the  threshold  of  our  conscious  lives.  So 
we  reach  a  distinction  between  sentience  as  a  nervous 
property    and    sentience   as    a  conscious   phenomenon, 

'  Thkrische  Wille,  p.  127. 


56        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

"between  sentience  and  sensibility.^  Sensibility  is  synony- 
mous with  the  usual  consciousness  of  the  individual's 
experience,  and  sentience  is  the  nervous  function  which 
may  or  may  not  be  accompanied  by  consciousness  or 
inner  aspect  in  general. 

The  criterion  of  sentience  is  the  general  criterion 
of  the  nervous,  i.e.,  reaction.  Wherever  a  stimulus  is  re- 
sponded to,  there  is  sentience,  from  the  sensitive  plant 
to  the  palm  of  the  hand.  This  is  an  objective  criterion 
solely.  The  criteria  of  sensibility,  on  the  other  hand, 
are  both  subjective  and  objective.  Sensibility  becomes 
objective  when  it  shows  reaction  plus  selective  adapta- 
tion :  subject  to  the  uncertainty  already  signalized  as 
attaching  to  such  a  test,  yet  in  the  case  of  the  human 
consciousness  sufficiently  clear  for  psychological  pur- 
poses. The  spinal  reflexes  in  man,  for  example,  which  are 
mechanical  after  he  is  beheaded,  are  more  or  less  under 
regulation  and  control  in  normal  circumstances  and  so 
belong  clearly  to  sensibility.  And  there  is  the  addi- 
tional subjective  criterion  of  consciousness  itself,  the 
major  or  personal  consciousness.  Subjectively  this  test 
is  decisive,  but  limited  to  our  observation  of  ourselves. 
But  it  becomes  of  value  also  objectively''  when  I  learn 
that  the  major  consciousness  resides  in  the  brain,  and 
the  destruction  or  incapacity  of  that  organ  destroys  it. 
Whenever  the  brain  is  gone,  that  is,  I  know  that  the 
trunk  before  me  has  no  sensibility,  just  as  well  as  I 
know  that  I  have  no  memories  of  a  period  of  fainting. 
The  former  is  known  ejectively,  the  latter  subjectively  ; 
from  the  fact  that  my  friend  gives  no  sign  of  j^ain  when 
he  sustains  an  operation  under  the  influence  of  chloro- 
form, I  say  I  know  objectively  that  he  had  no  sensibility. 

'  Lewes  uses  the  two  terms  in  senses  precisely  the  reverse  of  this, 
Phys.  Basis  of  Mind,  p.  222;  i.e.,  to  him  sensibility  is  the  nervous 
property  everywhere  ;  so  also  Sergi,  Psychologie  Physiologique,  p.  12. 

"^  More  pi'operly  ejectimly  in  CliU'ord's  phrase  :  the  eject  is  some  one's 
else  mind  as  /  look  at  it. 


SENTIENCE  AND  SENSIBILITY.  57 

For  a  working  test,  therefore,  of  the  limits  of  sensi- 
bility we  may  say  that  there  is  no  sensibility  (1)  where 
there  is  no  brain  ;  (2)  where  there  is  no  trace  left  in 
memory  ;  (3)  where  there  is  no  expressive  or  adaptive 
motor  reaction.  Yet  in  all  of  these  cases  sentience  may 
be  present,  as  the  sensitive  plant  seems  clearly  to 
show. 

The  same  distinction  will  be  observed  in  the  use  of  the 
two  adjectives  sentient  and  sensible.  A  reaction  is  sentient 
when  it  sustains  the  test  of  sentience,  and  sensible  when  it 
exhibits  sensibility.  Sensible  is  used  exclusively,  no  room  being 
found  for  the  adjective  sensitive,  since  its  customary  use 
vibrates  between  the  two  meanings  given  to  sentient  and  sen- 
sible. We  speak  of  a  sensitive  balance,  or  a  sensitive  plant, 
or  a  sensitive  conscience.  It  is  better  to  discard  the  word 
altogether,  for  exactness  of  meaning. 

The  meaning  here  given  to  sensibility  makes  it  almost 
synon3'mous  with  feeling.'  Feeling  is  used  in  the  discussion 
of  the  intellect  to  indicate  either  any  particular  affective  state 
whatever,  or  the  general  condition  of  the  affective  conscious- 
ness. Sensibility  is  this  latter  :  the  capacity  for  feeling  ;  the 
particular  states  of  sensibility  being  feelings,  sensations, 
emotions,''  etc. 

Sentience  and  the  Subconscious.  The  transition  from 
simple  sentience  to  the  full  consciousness  is  through 
a  stage  of  subconscious  modification.  Most  of  the  phe- 
nomena usually  claimed  as  evidence  of  unconscious 
mind  have  already  been  seen  to  find  their  explanation 
here.'  On  the  side  of  the  nervous  system  they  indicate 
a  stimulus  and  reaction  too  faint  to  reach  into  the  sen- 
sibility. Yet  they  influence  the  conscious  life  and  give  it 
direction  and  intensity  :  a  fact  seen  again  on  the  physi- 
cal side  under  the  principle  of  summation  of  stimuli. 
Under  this  sensational  or  purely  affective  aspect,  such 

'  So  Dumont,  loc.  cit,  p.  23  :  as  this  writer  suggests,  the  science  of 
the  seiisihility  in  geueral  sliould  be  called  (iHlheticH  (pp.  23-25). 

*  See  general  classificiition  below,  Chap.  III. 

*  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  xv. 


68        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

facts  have  been  given  sufficient  recognition  ;  there  is, 
however,  another  aspect  of  consciousness,  the  motor 
aspect,  in  which  their  importance  remains  to  be  pointed 
out  later. 


§  3.  Kinds  of  Consciousness  as  Dependent  on 
Nervous  Complexity. 

1.  Passive  Consciousness.  Such  subconscious  sensi- 
bility tends  to  secure  recognition  in  the  mental  life  as 
what  is  called  passive  consciousness,  to  distinguish  it 
from  the  active  forms  which  involve  more  or  less  atten- 
tion. In  most  cases  passive  consciousness  is,  b}'  its  very 
nature,  undetected,  and  it  exists  as  a  normal  state  apart 
from  active  consciousness  only  in  lower  forms  of  organic 
life  or  in  very  young  children.  In  adult  life  we  catch 
it  most  nearly  when  just  beginning  to  recover  from  a 
swoon ;'  the  sounds  around  us  are  heard,  but  have  no 
meaning,  relation,  or  escort.  Of  this  state  abstracted  from 
the  condition  of  our  usual  self-consciousness,  we  may 
make  the  following  remarks :  1.  It  is  a  state  of  pure 
sensibility  or  simple  awareness.  2.  It  carries  no  refer- 
ence to  an  external  object  or  to  the  body,  that  is,  no  such 
reference  inside  the  inner  aspect  -^  that  the  nervous  pro- 
cess has  a  direct  reference  to  a  particular  local  stimu- 
lus is  seen  in  the  particular  character  of  the  reaction 
which  follows  in  each  case.  3.  It  has  no  reference  to 
self  as  an  object  of  inner  apprehension,  no  voluntary 
effort  known  as  "  my  effort."  4.  It  has  no  relational  or 
apperceptive  quality.  It  is  not  knowledge,  but  pure 
feeling.  It  is  the  hypothetical  affective  state  in  all  its 
purity. 

We  say  hypothetical,  since  philosophers  will  have  it  so : 
and  certainly  it  is  hypothetical  to  us  as  long  as  we  are  phi- 


■  See  cases  gathered  by  James,  loc.  cit.,  i.  pp.  273-4. 

*  "  Placeless,  objectless  sensation" — Domrich,  quoted  by  Nahlowski. 


PASSIVE  CONSCIOUSNESS.  59 

losophiziug  about  it.  But  everybody  is  coming  to  accept  it  as 
the  earliest  form  of  consciousness.  Even  Prof.  T.  H.  Green,' 
the  arch-enemy  of  anything  not  "  intellectually  constituted," 
finds  that  his  net  has  caught  this  fish  v/hen  dragged  for  other 
game.  To  the  evolutionist  certainly  it  is  a  necessary  item  ;  but 
if  it  is  a  fact  it  ought  to  be  equally  necessary  and  important 
to  us  all.  Prof.  John  Watson,  therefore,  in  replying  to  Mr. 
Spencer  on  space-perception,''  would  be  said  by  perhaps  nine 
tenths  of  living  competent  psychologists  to  be  wide  of  the 
mark  in  bringing  the  following  damaging  (!)  charge  against 
Mr.  Spencer,  i.e.,  that  he  makes  "the  occurrence  of  a  sensa- 
tion the  same  thing  as  the  consciousness  of  that  occun-ence." 
When  "love  burns  or  remorse  gnaws,"  the  feeling  as  an 
occurrence  is  exactly  the  same  thing  as  my  consciousness  (not 
my  knowledge)  of  it. 

The  philosophical  bearings  of  this  position  may  not  detain 
us;  yet,  fortunately,  the  refutation  of  the  materialistic  posi- 
tion does  not  require  any  denial  of  facts.  Granted  a  purely 
affective  consciousness,  entirely  without  relations  of  time, 
space,  intensity,  etc.  ;  how  does  the  relational  consciousness 
arise  ?  This  is  Prof.  ATatson's  essential  point,  as  our  own,' 
and  the  empiricists  have  never  answered  it. 

The  affective  quality  of  sensations  comes  out  most  strongly 
in  cases  of  massive  or  voluminous  stimulation  :  here  rela- 
tions are  at  a  minimum  and  sensibility  is  at  a  maximum. 
When  one  plunges  into  a  very  hot  bath,  the  feeling  experienced 
is  so  overwhelming  that  the  knowledge  that  it  is  a  hot  bath, 
and  that  it  is  I  myself  who  am  taking  the  bath,  occupies  a 
very  slight  degree  of  consciousness.  We  can  imagine  the 
diffused  wave  of  feeling  that  sweeps  over  the  jelly-fish  when  an 
unwary  insect  settles  on  its  exposed  surface.  In  a  case  of 
severe  toothache,  also,  what  we  really  have  predominating  in 
consciousness  is  not  knowledge,  but  feeling.  As  an  imme- 
diate state  of  consciousness,  we  do  not  knoiv  that  we  have  u 
toothache,  we  feel  it.* 

The  possibility  of  turning  attention  to  a  dim  presen- 
tation and  makin<^  it  vivid  shows  that  the  cerebral  basis 
of  these  hnver  forms  of  liuman  consciousness  is  not  one 
of  separateness  from  the  liighest  centres,  but  of  com- 

'  Prolegomena  to  Ethics,  pp.  48-53,  also  89,  124,  ami  125. 
''  Mind,  vol.  xv.  pp.  541-2. 

*  Senses  and  Intellect,  tieatinent  of  Space  and  Time. 

*  Compare  Bain's  remarks,  Emotions  and  Will,  Appendix  C. 


60        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

munity  with  them :  indeed  a  nervous  discharge  already 
in  voluntary  operation  may  be  diverted  into  a  subcon- 
scious reaction  without  the  attention.'  Passive  con- 
sciousness, then,  physiologically  considered,  is  a  state  of 
temporary  loss  of  tension  in  a  brain-area  which  shares 
in  the  highest  integration  and  instability. 

2.  Eeactive  Consciousness.  By  reactive  consciousness 
is  meant  the  state  formerly  designated  as  involuntary  at- 
tention. In  passive  consciousness  only  the  reception  of 
stimuli  is  a  matter  of  sensibility  :  here  consciousness 
seems  to  attach  to  both  members  of  the  nervous  arc. 
There  is  as  truly  a  reaction  in  consciousness  as  there  is 
in  the  nervous  system.  We  may  accordingly  analyze 
this  form  of  consciousness  for  purposes  of  treatment  into 
three  elements,  corresponding  to  the  three  elements  of 
the  nervous  arc.  First,  the  receiving  consciousness,  the 
stimulus — say  a  loud  unexpected  sound ;  second,  the 
attention  involuntarily  drawn,  the  registering  element, 
as  appears  below  ;  and  third,  the  muscular  reaction  fol- 
lowing upon  the  sound — say  flight  from  fancied  danger. 
The  analogy  accordingly  between  the  typical  brain-pro- 
cess  and  the  typical  mental  process  finds  here  its  most 
general  force  and  demands  the  most  careful  treatment. 
Questions  of  the  most  radical  philosophical  importance 

1  In  my  writing  I  have  discovered  a  happy  case  of  this.  While  dis- 
cussing the  nature  of  the  nervous  process  which  underlies  the  so-called 
muscular  sense,  the  words  afferent  and  eferent  were  of  frequent  occur- 
rence, and  lay  throughout  in  subconsciousness.  After  writing  a  sen- 
tence contaiuing  the  word  superficial  I  found  that  I  had  written  in- 
stead superferent.  In  such  cases  a  very  unstable  nervous  connection  is 
brought  up  to  the  status  of  a  real  subconscious  reaction  by  some  one 
element  (here  the  letter /)  common  to  it  and  another  similar  reaction 
voluntarily  excited,  and  the  latter  nervous  discharge  is  diverted,  with- 
out drawing  the  attention,  into  the  muscular  channel  of  the  former. 
The  ordinary  substitution  of  single  letters,  etc.,  in  writing,  are  simple 
variations  in  a  common  motor  discharge,  and  do  not  presuppose  even  a 
subconscious  process. 


REACTIVE  CONSCIOUSNESS.  61 

begin  liere.     Tliej  are  necessarily  postponed  until  we 
complete  our  survey  of  tliis  general  analogy. 

The  exigencies  of  clear  treatment  compel  a  division  of  ma- 
terial which  logically  falls  together  under  any  adequate  view 
of  our  present  topic.  The  nature  of  the  stimulus  in  reactive 
consciousness  must  be  thrown  into  a  separate  chapter;  that  is, 
it  falls  under  feeling.  The  nature  of  tiie  consciousness  of  the 
muscular  process,  on  the  contrary,  is  so  bound  up  with  the  phe- 
nomena of  will  that  it  is  better  taken  up  in  that  connection. 
The  nature  of  the  central  process,  also,  attention  itself,  falls 
largely  under  the  intellectual  function,  and  has  had  notice 
there:  as  a  matter  of  feeling  it  is  discussed  later.'  It  may 
suffice,  therefore,  to  have  suggested  these  themes  at  this 
point. 

Characteristics  of  the  Reactive  Consciousness.  In  gen- 
eral, this  form  of  consciousness  is  distinguisliecl  by  a 
feeling  of  expenditure.  Attention  alwaj'S  means  expendi- 
ture, even  when  quite  involuntary.  Any  further  des- 
ignation would  only  becloud  a  sensation  which  every  one 
can  point  out  clearly  enough  in  his  own  experience.  As 
a  feeling,  it  seems  to  belong  between  the  consciousness 
of  the  stimulus  and  the  consciousness  of  the  muscular 
reaction.' 

Again,  the  reactive  consciousness  has  an  additional 
element  which  we  call  the  sensation  of  fatigue.  This 
sensation  is  distinct  from  that  of  expenditure,  and  arises 
only  after  prolonged  attention  or  in  conditions  of  ante- 
cedent nervous  exhaustion.  As  to  what  this  feeling  is, 
again,  no  further  description  is  necessary  now. 

Moreover,  on  the  muscular  side  we  find  two  different 
classes  of  effects  :  the  reactive  eilects  peculiar  to  the 
particular  stimulus,  and  besides  these  the  peculiar 
muscular  accompaniuents  of  attention  itself.  The  latter 
are  constant,  and  the  former  vary  with  the  stimulus. 
For  example,  a  student  hears  his  name  called  suddenly 
and  loudly.     The  particular  reaction  habitual  to  such  a 

'  See  Chap.  XII.  §  4,  bflow. 


62        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

stimulus  is  a  speech-reaction — tlie  response,  Hullo  !  or 
Yes!  But  he  turns  his  attention  to  the  source  of  the 
sound,  and  by  so  doing  brings  into  play  a  different  set 
of  nerves  and  muscles.  Now  of  these  two  reactions  it  is 
the  speech-reaction  which  answers  in  consciousness  to 
the  motor  side  of  the  nervous  arc  stimulated  by  the 
sound,  and  it  is  only  this  that  we  can  say  follows  the  at- 
tention without  finding  ourselves  on  debatable  ground. 
The  attentive  movements  seem  to  belong  peculiarly  to 
the  attention  itself,  and  so  fall  under  the  central  element 
in  the  typical  reaction. 

Consequently,  in  the  motor  phenomena  of  attention 
there  are  tvv^o  very  distinct  elements  which  subsequent 


\mp 


Fig.  12. 


Fig.  13. 


sp,  mp,  mt  —  motor  reaction. 

sp,  cc,  mp',  mt'  =  motor  accompaniments  of  attention. 

discussion  must  not  confuse:  the  motor  efi'ects  of  the 
stimulus  which  is  attended  to,  and  the  motor  accompa- 
niments of  the  attention  itself.  This  may  be  seen  in  Fig. 
12,  in  which  a  new  element  {cc  =  coordinating  centre)  is 
added  as  the  central  process  of  attention.  A  new  motor 
process  {mp')  is  stimulated,  and  this  produces  new  mus- 
cular  movements   {mt').       The   ordinary   reaction   also 


VOLUNTARY  CONSCIOUSNESS.  63 

takes  place  (wp,  mt;  in  this  case  speech)  following 
from  the  ordinary  stimulus  {sp\  in  this  case,  sound). 
The  matter  is  again  simplified  in  the  "  motor  square" 
diagram,  Fig.  13,  which,  with  Fig.  12,  should  be  com- 
pared with  Figs.  10  and  11,  p.  42. 

The  physiological  process  of  expenditure  seems  on  the  sur- 
face to  be  analogous  to  the  mental  process;'  that  is,  if  phy- 
sical expenditure  be  the  basis  of  sensible  expenditure,  our 
analogy  is  satisfactory.  This  is  found  in  the  positive  dis- 
charo'e  of  a  centre  on  an  efferent  course:  and  the  analogy 
would  seem  to  require  a  form  of  consciousness  arising  from 
the  motor  discharge  itself.  The  feeling  of  fatigue,  also, 
seems  to  have  a  sufficient  physical  basis  in  the  lower  potential 
of  the  motor  elements  in  consequence  of  frequent  discharge. 
They  have  become  drained  and  to  a  degree  incapable  of  far- 
ther reaction. 

Divisions  of  the  Reactive  Consciousness.  Apart  from 
the  passive  consciousness  already  mentioned,  which 
forms,  theoretically,  the  purely  affective  basis  of  a  reac- 
tion, a  further  distinction  may  be  made  according  as  we 
view  the  reaction  simply  as  motor  sensibility  or  as  the 
medium  of  the  relational  process  of  attention.  The  at- 
tention always  establishes  relations.  This  relational 
process  is  the  foundation  of  knowledge  and  gives  us, 
whenever  it  occurs,  the  apperceptive  consciousness.  The 
muscular  sensibility,  on  the  contrary,  meaning  all  sen- 
sations involved  in  muscular  movement,  whatever  their 
seat  and  physiological  basis,  may  be  called  the  motor 
consciousness."  The  apperceptive  consciousness  was 
the  subject  of  the  former  volume. 

III.  Voluntary  Consciousness.  Voluntary  conscious- 
ness may  be  characterized  by  several  new  affective  ele- 
ments— new  modifications  of  sensibility.  Without  antici- 
pating later  analysis,  we  may  say  that  it  exhibits,  first, 
deliberation.     By  this  is  meant,  in  general,  a  doubleuess 

•  See  Chap.  XII.  §  1.  » Below,  Chap.  XII. 


64        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

of  sensibility,  a  consciousness  of  being  drawn  apart,  or 
of  inward  conflict — to  limit  the  case  to  tbe  feeling  aspect, 
apart  from  the  play  of  ideas  involved.  This  feeling  of 
deliberation  leads  on  to  another  element  of  sensibility, 
namely,  the  feeling  of  decision  or  consent ;  in  which  the 
doubleness  spoken  of  is  resolved  in  a  j)leasant  unity  of 
consciousness  again.  And  further,  we  find  another  pos- 
sible element,  apparently  distinct  from  the  preceding, 
the  feeling  of  effort.  In  this  sensation  there  is  an  active 
identification  of  ourselves  with  the  reaction  decided  iijDon  ; 
a  conscious  putting  forth  of  ourselves  to  reinforce  our 
decision.  Any  analysis  of  volition  must,  at  least,  take 
account  of  these  three  distinguishable  aspects  of  sensi- 
bility.' 

Now  it  is  in  the  selective  and  inhibitive  functions  of 
the  nervous  system  that  the  physical  basis  of  the  volun- 
tary consciousness  is  to  be  found.  As  far  as  such  selec- 
tion and  inhibition  are  conscious  at  all,  they  have  prob- 
ably the  essentials  of  conscious  volition.  Of  the  three 
sensible  elements  involved,  the  first  and  second  have 
clear  physiological  analogies.  Deliberation  in  con- 
sciousness is  analogous  to  dynamic  complexity  and 
instability  in  the  brain-centres :  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  temporary  balance  in  the  nervous  system,  and  it  sug- 
gests itself  at  once  as  the  physical  counterpart  of  mental 
hesitation.  Inhibition  also,  as  far  as  our  physiological 
knowledge  goes,  seems  to  have  full  conscious  value  here. 
Decision,  as  following  upon  deliberation,  is  again  analo- 
gous to  the  state  of  central  readiness  for  the  discharge 
of  nervous  force,  when  the  equilibrium  is  destroyed  and 
the  motor  outburst  only  waits  for  the  requisite  stimulus, 
to  take  its  outward  course.  Decision  proper  therefore 
precedes  the  sensation  of  expenditure,  the  latter  being 
full  consciousness  of  a  motor  discharge. 


>  For  detailed  consideration  of  these  three  features  of  voluntary  con- 
sciousness, see  below.  Chaps.  XV  and  XVI. 


VOLUNTARY  CONSCIOUSNESS.  65 

With  eflbrt,  however,  the  case  is  on  the  surface  differ- 
ent. There  is  no  evident  nervous  function  correspond- 
ing to  this  state  of  sensibility ;  that  is,  no  function  not 
already  supplied  with  its  conscious  analogy.  The  ques- 
tion of  such  an  analogy  or  physical  basis  of  eftbrt,  there- 
fore, comes  finally  to  wait  upon  a  more  thoroughgoing 
mental  analysis  of  this  sensation.  If  effort  be  reduced  to 
expenditure  and  expenditure  to  incoming  sensations  from 
the  muscles,  then  there  is  no  need  for  such  an  analogy ; 
but  if  effort  resist  further  analysis,  either  physiology  is 
as  yet  at  fault,  or  there  is  no  possible  physiological  con- 
struction of  effort. 

It  is  important  that  the  present  state  of  this  question 
should  be  clearly  understood.  The  mental  conditions  of  voli- 
tion appear  in  the  proper  place  below.  It  is  quite  possible 
that  future  physiological  research  may  find  an  additional  ele- 
ment of  nervous  integration  underlying  the  selective  function, 
especially  as  our  hypotheses  as  regards  tlie  nature  of  inhibi- 
tion are  as  yet  incomplete.  Indeed  it  might  be  well  to  antic- 
ipate such  an  advance  in  our  knowledge.  But  it  has  not  yet 
been  made,  and  hence  the  so-called  reduction  of  volition  to  a 
consciousness  of  a  physiological  complex,  in  the  absence  even 
of  requisite  nervous  analogies,  are  crude  and  unreasonable. 
They  proceed  upon  an  inadequate  analysis  and  statement  of 
the  conscious  facts.' 

In  addition  to  these  elements  of  sensibility,  the  voluntary 
consciousness  shows  the  elements  already  found  to  character- 
ize the  reactive  consciousness:  they  need  not  be  again  enu- 
merated. Whatever  is  true  of  attention  at  all  is  true  also  of 
voluntary  attention.  The  apperceptive  form  of  reactive  con- 
eciousness  becomes,  however,  more  conspicuous  in  the  volun- 
tary. 

The  results  of  the  exposition  of  this  section  may  be  set 
forth  in  a  table  showing  the  various  aspects  of  consciousness, 
as  the  consideration  of  the  nervous  system  brings  them  to 
view: 

'Passive Automatic  ] 

OonBciouB-     ^^^^^^^  I  Apperceptive  |    Konox  ^"otL 

Voluntary Voluntary  J 

'  Notably  Maudsley.  Mr.  Spencer  shows  discretion,  if  nothing  more, 
in  letting  this  question  alone. 


66        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 


§  4.  An-alogies  of  Function-. 

More  general  facts  of  consciousness  come  into  our 
field  of  vision  when  we  ask  for  the  mental  counterparts 
of  the  "  Principles  of  Nervous  Action."  Such  facts  are 
largely  interpretations  belonging  to  an  advanced  stage  of 
the  introspective  and  descriptive  science  of  psychology 
— just  as  the  "  principles"  belong  to  the  systematic  re- 
sults of  anatomy  and  physiology.  As  the  statement  of 
the  latter  was  found  above  to  be  somewhat  hyiDothetical 
in  many  cases,  so  the  statement  of  their  correspondence 
with  mental  principles  must  be  as  yet  quite  fragmentary 
and  incomplete. 

Nervous  Betention  and  Consciousness.  The  psycho- 
logical conditions  of  retention  have  already  been  fully 
considered.'  The  physiological  facts  required  to  support 
the  view  already  taken  of  mental  retention  so-called,  are 
now  seen  to  be  real  elements  in  a  true  conception  of  the 
nervous  system.^  If  the  conditions  of  conscious  memory 
are  fully  met  by  this  explanation,  and  if  physiology 
affords  us  the  requisite  data  on  the  side  of  the  nervous 
organism,  then  the  case  seems  to  be  made  out. 

Briefly  expressed,  therefore,  the  mental  principle  of 
retention  is  the  principle  of  mental  growth ;  a  growth 
which  is  at  every  stage  dependent  upon  true  physio- 
logical retention.  My  mind  grows  because  it  has  in  its 
remembered  stores  things  new  and  old,  and  because  its 
synthetic  constructions  are  preserved  as  a  basis  for  future 
apperceptive  syntheses.  But  there  is  no  preservation  of 
single  states — those  subject  to  the  integrating  (associ- 
ating) process — as  acquisitions,  apart  from  and  out  of 
this  activity  of  synthesis. 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  ix.  ^  Above,  Chap.  I.  §  3, 


ANALOGIES  OF  FUNCTION.  67 

On  the  side  of  tlie  afifective  consciousness,  mental 
growth  takes  the  form  of  increased  susceptibility,  on  the 
one  hand,  to  new  stimulations,  and  diminished  suscepti- 
bility, on  the  other  hand,  to  habitual  ones.  On  the  rela- 
tional consciousness  the  effects  are  quite  the  contrary. 
When  a  stimulus  is  old,  we  feel  it  less,  but  discriminate  it 
more  :  when  new,  we  feel  it  more,  but  discriminate  it  less. 
This  is  simply  to  say  what  we  would  expect,  that  the 
nervous  process  in  becoming  fixed  favors  the  establishing 
of  the  fixed  relationships  of  knowledge,  but  hinders  the 
intensity  of  consciousness  as  sensibility — which  latter 
has  been  seen  to  depend  upon  instability  in  the  nervous 
orcranization. 

Occasion  has  already  arisen,  also,  to  say  that  the 
evidence  both  physical  and  psychological  of  retention  is 
functional  evidence.  We  know  that  we  have  certain 
memories  only  by  remembering  them — only  when  we 
pass  out  of  any  such  thing  as  retention  proper  into  the 
function  of  reproduction.  So  also  any  evidence  in  detail 
of  physiological  retention,  or  minute  modification  of 
structure,  becomes  evident  only  in  the  performance  of 
the  organic  function  of  which  it  forms  a  part. 

The  history  of  this  functional  retention  in  a  particular 
individual  is  an  interesting  page  of  ph^^siological  psy- 
chology. The  growth  of  body  and  mind  is  so  close  and 
intimate,  as  regards  retention,  that  our  idea  is  clear  only 
when  it  includes  both.  The  first  random  movements  of 
the  child  betray  inherited  tensions  and  ready-formed 
paths  for  nervous  energy  :  and  tlie  first  intelligent  choices 
of  tlie  child  show  an  even  finer  inherited  mental  organi- 
zation. As  the  nerve-centres  become  more  complex, 
their  tensions  toward  repetition  of  discharge  become 
stronger :  and  as  the  child  grows  to  appreciate  alter- 
natives, it  discovers  their  strength  or  weakness  in  lines 
indulged  or  neglected.  Pathways  of  indescribable  intri- 
cacy, an  organic  network  of  nervous  connections,  serve 


68        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

as  a  liiiit  to  tlie  varying  phases  of  impulse  and  motive 
that  sway  tlie  preferences  of  tlie  adult  man,  and  picture 
tlie  possibilities  of  the  life  of  association  and  interest  in 
which  all  his  activities  find  their  play. 

It  is  not  in  place  to  dwell  here  upon  the  possibilities  of 
memory  that  such  a  conception  opens  up.  Whether  it  be 
true  or  not  that  no  experience  of  our  lives  is  ever  lost  as  an 
individual  memory,  it  is  certainly  true  that  it  is  never  lost  as 
an  element  of  our  present.  Physiological  integration  is  pos- 
sible only  by  reason  of  minute  increments  in  experience;  and 
each  such  increment,  if  sufficient  to  work  a  change  at  all, 
takes  its  place  as  a  stone  in  the  wonderful  structure  which 
we  call  the  nervous  system.  To  question  whether  a  mental 
fact  may  be  remembered  again  is  to  question  whether  its 
effect  in  consciousness  at  first  gave  it  the  right  to  a  place  in 
the  mental  synthesis  in  which  reproduction  consists. 

The  analogy  here  between  physical  function  considered  as 
a  reinstatement  of  a  nervous  state  and  mental  function  also 
considered  as  a  reinstatement,  is  so  close  that  it  is  often  con- 
sidered a  conclusive  proof  of  the  identity  of  the  two.  Yet 
the  irreducible  character  of  the  apperceptive  process,  as 
already  insisted  upon,  meets  us  both  in  the  first  experience 
and  in  its  reproduction.  The  dependence  of  mind  upon 
physical  retention  is  entirely  consistent  with  its  independence 
in  presentation  and  representation,  and  the  former  fact  sat- 
isfies the  demands  of  the  analogy  as  far  as  it  is  legitimate. 
The  individual  movements  of  my  pen  do  not  involve  my 
attention  sufficiently  to  become  fixed  as  memories  ;  and  so  it 
is  impossible  for  me  to  remember  all  the  movements  of  a 
hundred  pages  of  manuscript.  But  every  movement  has 
been  a  nervous  experience,  has  been  integrated  in  the  ner- 
vous system  as  a  whole,  and  my  handwriting  in  the  future 
will  be  different  for  every  letter  I  have  written.  This  is 
simply  to  say  that  physical  elements  suffice  for  retention, 
but  not  for  finished  memory. 

Principle  of  Specific  Connection  and  Consciousness. 
Another  general  principle  of  the  mental  life  comes  to 
mind  when  we  seek  to  interj^ret  specific  nervous  con- 
nections, i.e.,  the  principle  of  association.  It  is  undoubt- 
edly true  that  mental  association  is  possible  only  when 
the  specific  brain-centres  which  the  associated  elements 
involve  maintain  organic  connections  with  one  another. 


ANALOGIES  OF  FUNCTION.  69 

This  is  so  true  tliat  if  certain  brain-areas  be  removed, 
certain  well-defined  classes  of  memories  disappear : 
and  the  other  centres  which  remain  do  not  perform  their 
function  together,  if  their  connection  depends  upon  the 
presence  of  the  lost  areas.  The  best  example  of  this  is 
found  in  the  different  forms  of  aphasia.  The  full  "  speech- 
faculty,"  so-called,  depends  upon  the  maintenance  of  the 
proper  dynamic  connections  among  several  different 
brain-areas.  A  minor  application  of  the  same  principle 
leads  us  to  what  we  may  call  the  "  specialization  of  men- 
tal function  " — carried  to  a  mechanical  extreme  in  the 
old  "  faculty-theory."  ' 

Principle  of  Summation  of  Stimuli  and  Consciousness. 
The  summation  of  stimuli  not  only  avails  to  bring  a 
reaction  over  the  threshold  of  sensibility,  but  it  applies 
within  the  sensible  world  in  differences  of  sensational 
and  emotional  inteiisities.  The  general  law  of  increasing 
intensity  in  relation  to  increased  stimulation  is  already 
familiar.  Weber's  law  is  simply  a  principle  of  the 
summation  of  conscious  intensities.  That  there  is  such 
a  summation  is  seen  in  the  plain  fact  that  one  light  is 
brighter  to  us  than  two ;  that  the  loss  of  a  hundred 
dollars  gives  us  more  anxiety  than  the  loss  of  fifty ; 
and  that  the  effort  of  memorizing  a  dozen  words  is 
greater  than  that  of  memorizing  six.  This  application 
of  the  principle,  however,  is  confined  to  facts  of  positive 
sensibility.  That  we  are  not  able  to  argue  a  conscious 
result  from  the  summation  of  unconscious  elements  we 
have  already  had  occasion  to  show." 

Inhibition  and  Consciousness.^  The  clearest  and 
most  important  kind  of  iuhiljition  in  consciousness  is 

'Wundt  warns  us,  however,  against  too  close  analogy  between 
brain-connections  and  formal  association  of  ideas. 

*  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  iv.  ^  2  and  chap.  vir.  ^  4. 

*8ce  a  clever  article  by  Binet,  L'inhihUion  dana  lea  phenomhiea  d* 
conscience,  lievue  Philoaophique,  Aug.  1890. 


70        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Toluntary.  AVe  find  it  possible  to  exert  a  direct  force  of 
will  to  jDrevent  or  cut  off  a  nervous  reaction  or  train  of 
thoughts.     This  has  already  had  mention  above. 

Other  less  evident  applications  of  the  principle  may 
be  made  within  the  sphere  of  sensibility.  As  a  principle 
of  belief  it  has  already  been  mentioned  under  the  so- 
called  Lmv  of  Contradictory  Representation : '  its  bearing 
in  this  connection,  however,  is  not  upon  belief,  but  upon 
actual  conflict  and  repression  among  images.  The  ques- 
tion is :  Are  there  cases  of  antagonism  among  states  of 
consciousness  analogous  to  the  positive  and  negative 
aspects  of  nervous  tension  and  discharge  ? 

Very  little  reflection  is  needed  to  show  us  that  our 
conscioiis  life  is  a  complex  of  such  conflicts,  repressions, 
and  reinforcements  among  images  almost  as  elaborate  as 
the  system  of  tensions  we  have  found  in  the  nervous 
system.  This  aspect  of  our  mental  life  has  been  empha- 
sized by  the  Herbartian  psychologists,  and  their  service, 
when  freed  from  physical  terminology  and  mathematical 
expression,  is  a  real  one.  It  is  only  necessary  to  com- 
pare our  ordinary  waking  life,  its  reasonableness,  conti- 
nuity, and  soberness,  with  some  of  our  dream-states  with 
their  incoherence,  extravagance,  and  feeble  semblance 
of  reason,  to  see  what  we  owe  to  inhibition  considered 
as  a  balance  of  mental  tensions.  The  representation  of 
a  winged  horse  or  a  scaly  mermaid  is  just  as  possible 
when  we  are  awake  as  when  we  are  asleep  :  why  isn't 
it  just  as  likely  to  arise  in  consciousness  and  remain  ? 
Simply  because  other  images  of  horses  and  maids  inhibit 
the  wings  and  the  scales  with  all  the  force  of  repeated 
experience  and  sensible  confirmation.  In  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  young  child,  the  wings  and  scales  once  sug- 
gested do  arise  and  remain  :  its  waking  states  are  as 
novel  as  its  dreams.     But  as  experience  grows,  mental 


Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  xiii.  §  5. 


ANALOGIES  OF  FUNCTION.  71 

products  become  as  firmly  held  or  as  firmly  banished  as 
their  nervous  correlatives,  and  the  growth  on  both  sides 
is  a  growth  in  inhibition. 

It  is  only  when  we  examine  certain  classes  of  states 
a  little  off  the  normal  that  the  force  of  the  principle  is 
fully  seen.  In  cases  of  "  fixed  ideas  "  or  monomanias, 
a  single  presentation  acquires  an  inhibitive  force  over 
the  entire  content  of  consciousness.  No  other  subject 
of  thought  has  any  chance  of  a  hearing :  it  is  imme- 
diately choked  off  by  the  more  violent  than  constitu- 
tional rulings  of  the  *'  speaker  of  the  house."  Again, 
in  cases  of  hallucination  and  illusion  the  normal  reports 
of  the  senses  are  inhibited  in  whole  or  part  by  the  false 
image  which  fits  itself  into  the  vacant  place.  Particu- 
larly in  hyjDuotic  hallucination  are  the  phenomena  pre- 
sented in  remarkable  purity.  The  suggestion  of  a  posi- 
tive object  in  the  room  is  immediately  followed  by  the 
sight  or  hearing  of  such  an  object  by  the  patient ;  the 
suggestion,  which  is  entirely  imaginary,  hiding  the  real 
objects  of  the  room.  The  images  of  the  latter  are  thus 
inhibited.  Even  a  negative  suggestion,  as  it  is  called — 
the  suggestion  simply  of  the  absence  of  such  or  such 
an  object — is  at  once  realized.  A  further  important 
point  is  well  established,  namely,  that  the  inhibition  of 
an  image  takes  place  only  at  the  points  at  which  it  is 
really  inconsistent  with  the  suggested  image  ;  in  other 
points  the  two  images  coalesce.  For  example,  cases  are 
recorded  in  which  if  the  patient  was  told  what  he  saw 
was  the  picture  of  a  hat,  when  in  reality  it  was  the  photo- 
graph of  a  man,  he  saw  a  man  wearing  a  hat ;  but  if 
some  other  animal  was  suggested,  the  man  was  not  seen 
at  all.  Similar  coalescence  of  images  occurs  in  dreams.' 
To  bring  these  latter  cases  under  the  head  of  real 
inhibition  a  further  point  of  evidence  is  wanting :  that 

'See  Appendix  B. 


72        TEE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

tlie  normal  image  is  really  present  at  all ;  tliat  tlie  ner- 
vous inhibition  has  not  been  so  complete  as  to  cut  off 
altogether  the  physical  process  corresponding  to  the 
normal  image.  This  point  is  fully  supplied  by  recent 
observations.  The  fact  mentioned  already  that  the  sug- 
gested image  may  coalesce  with  the  image  of  the  reality 
seems  to  show  that  the  normal  image  is  really  present 
before  the  suggestion.  Further,  it  is  proved  that  the 
patient  must  recognize  the  image  which  he  is  not  to  see 
before  he  does  not  see  it,  or  before  it  is  hidden  by 
the  suggested  image.  This  is  evidence  that  there  is 
real  conflict  in  representation  and  a  repression  of  one 
mental  state  by  another.' 

A  great  source  of  such  involuntary  and  subconscious 
inhibition  is  expectant  attention  or  eager  desire.  What  may 
be  called  the  "scientist's  illusion,"  his  tendency  to  find  in 
his  specimens  the  facts  he  looks  for  and  desires,  often  arises 
from  the  inhibition  of  the  true  images  presented,  by  the 
vivid  representation  of  the  marks  his  theory  leads  him  to 
expect.  Strong  emotions  also  give  an  inhibitory  force  to  the 
ideas  which  arouse  them  or  toward  which  they  are  directed. 

§  5.  The  Nervous  System  and  the  Unity  of 

Consciousness. 

The  functional  unity  of  the  nervous  system  has  already 
received  sufficient  emphasis.  The  conception  advocated 
in  the  preceding  pages  is  a  dynamic  conception.  The 
parts  of  the  system  have  meaning  only  as  they  are  re- 
lated to  each  other  in  a  system  whose  activity  as  a 
whole  gives  value  to  the  activity  of  the  parts  in  the  gen- 
eral life-process.  The  last  analogy,  therefore,  that  con- 
cerns us  is  a  gathering  up  of  all  the  partial  analogies  with 
which  we  have  been  hitherto  concerned.  We  have  not 
many  nervous  systems,  but  one  ;  the  laws  of  its  growth 

'  Cf.  Binet,  loc.  cii.,  p.  139  f.,  for  interesting  details  ;  also  for  other 
cases  of  inbibitioa  of  images  by  optical  experimentatioa. 


ORGANIC  THEORY  OF  MENTAL    UNITY.  73 

are  not  many,  but  one ;  its  function  is  one,  its  teleolog- 
ical  end  is  one. 

So  consciousness  lias  not  many  forms,  passive,  re- 
active, sensory,  motor,  voluntary,  inliibitive.  These  are 
all  partial  aspects  of  a  single  unitary  presence.  There 
is  no  sensory  phenomenon  but  has  its  dynamic  or  reac- 
tive side.  There  is  no  motor  phenomenon  in  conscious- 
ness, but  it  springs  from  antecedents  of  sensibility. 
There  is  no  voluntary  phenomenon,  but  it  rests  on 
both.  Consciousness,  therefore,  is  one  as  the  nervous 
process  is  one. 

§  6.  Organic  Theory  of  the  Unity  of  Consciousness.* 

Maudsley  sums  up'  this  theory  in  three  great  points, 
which  may  be  stated  logically  thus :  First,  the  brain, 
as  the  organ  of  consciousness  or  thought,  is  capable 
of  dual  activity,  this  duality  making  it  impossible  for 
us  to  look  for  an}^  unity  in  consciousness  as  far  as  the 
thought-processes  alone  are  concerned ;  second,  the  real 
unity  of  self  is  to  be  found  in  the  affective  or  emotional 
life,  which,  third,  finds  its  basal  principle  of  unity  in  the 
organic  unity  of  the  body,  i.e.,  in  the  nervous  system. 
These  points  are  closely  interwoven,  and  present  an  ac- 
count of  the  mental  life  to  which  spiritualists  generally 
take  broad  exception.  It  is  our  purpose  to  indicate 
some  considerations  from  a  psychological  standpoint 
which  tend  to  show  that  Maudsley's  physiological  data 
do  not  suffice  for  the  interpretation  he  gives  them,  leav- 
ing out  of  account  altogether  the  evidence  to  be  drawn 
later  from  volition  as  a  fact  of  conscious  unity. 

The  facts  bearing  upon  the  dual  nature  of  the  liemi- 

'  Tlii.s  section  has  been  published  substantially  in  Mind,  vol.  xiv.  p. 
545,  under  the  title  Dr.  Maudnley  on  the  Double  Brain, 

'  In  Mind,  vol.  xiv.  p.  161,  art.  The  Double  Brain.  For  his 
detailed  position,  see  his  rhymihKjy  of  Mind. 


74        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

spheres  and  tlie  functional  interpretation  of  tliem  in 
regard  to  movement  which  Maudsley  gives,  are  con- 
ceded from  the  outset.  It  seems  to  be  established  that, 
besides  the  common  functional  activity  of  the  hemi- 
spheres, that  area  over  which  they  both  have  dominion, 
there  is  a  residuum  to  each  alone,  a  large  body  of  motor 
functions  peculiar  to  each  respectively  ;  and  that  either 
may  dictate  the  performance  of  their  common  function, 
together  with  that  which  is  peculiar  to  itself.  It  is 
when  we  pass  on  to  consider  "  how  the  hemispheres  act 
toward  one  another  in  thinking,"  that  is,  how  they  are 
related  to  each  other  as  respects  the  aj)perceptive  con- 
sciousness and  its  unity,  that  the  question  of  psycho- 
logical interest  arises. 

I.  Absence  of  Unity  in  the  Motor  Consciousness.  First 
Argument :  from  the  separate  activity  of  the  hemispheres. 
In  answering  this  question,  Maudsley  first  cites  the 
case  in  which  we  attempt  to  perform  movements  in- 
volving the  separate  activity  of  the  hemispheres,  as  the 
performance  of  different  movements  with  the  two  hands. 
He  says  :  "  If  a  person  who  is  performing  one  kind  of 
act  with  one  hand  and  another  kind  of  act  with  the 
other  hand  will  endeavor  to  think  of  both  acts  at  the 
same  moment,  he  will  discover  that  he  cannot  do  so  ; 
although  he  can  execute  the  different  movements  simul- 
taneously, he  cannot  think  them  simultaneously  ;  he 
must  pass  in  thought  from  one  to  the  other,  a  rapid 
alternation  of  consciousness  takes  place.  This  alterna- 
tion, though  rapid,  is  by  no  means  simultaneous ;  it  is 
distinctly  successive,  since  there  is  an  appreciable  pause 
in  the  performance  of  it."  After  excluding  other  alter- 
natives, such  as  the  coexistence  of  different  conscious- 
nesses, he  concludes  that  "  there  remains  the  supposition 
of  an  alternating  action  of  the  hemispheres  corresponding 
to  the  alternating  consciousness."     This  alternation,  he 


ORGANIC  THEORY  OF  MENTAL    UNITY.  75 

goes  on  to  sliow,  gradually  yields,  on  tlie  part  of  the 
hemispheres,  through  repetition  and  education,  to  their 
union  in  simultaneous  activity  as  a  single  organ,  but 
consciousness  preserves  its  method  of  "  extremely  rapid 
alternations."  The  conclusion,  therefore,  as  respects 
intellectual  unity,  is  that  we  find  no  basis  for  it  in  the 
functional  activity  of  the  hemispheres. 

Answer.  This  conclusion  may  be  true,  but  the  analy- 
sis it  involves  of  the  psychological  unity  of  the  states 
involved  is  so  meagre  and  false  that  "we  cannot  take  it 
alone  with  us  in  our  search  for  the  true  principle  of 
unity.  By  consciousness  in  this  connection  Dr.  Maudsley 
seems  to  mean  attention.  It  is  true  that  I  cannot  attend 
to  the  two  movements  at  once,  that  m}^  attention  alter- 
nates usually  even  when  the  movements  are  simul- 
taneous ;  but  it  is  not  true  that  I  may  not  be  conscious 
of  the  two  movements  at  once.  Repetition  tends  to 
make  them  elements  of  a  single  state  of  consciousness, 
just  as  repetition  tends  to  make  the  hemispheres  a  single 
unit  organ.  A  simultaneous  consciousness  is  not  a  "  dis- 
tracted or  dual  consciousness,"  but  an  integrated  con- 
sciousness, a  new  state  whose  elements  are  drawn  from 
previous  states.  Attention  is  a  state  of  monoideism,  but 
consci(msness  is  not. 

Now  this  integration  of  states  is  possible  only  on  the 
basis  of  a  fundamental  intellectual  unity  as  necessary  to 
the  mental  life  as  organic  unity  is  to  the  members  of 
the  body  in  their  variety  of  plij^sical  functions.  If  I 
move  my  right  thumb  to  the  left,  is  the  movement  my 
only  consciousness?  Am  I  not  conscious  that  it  is  my 
thumb,  my  movement?  Are  there  not  unnumbered 
organic,  detached,  stray  peripheral  sensations  bound  up 
with  the  act  or  with  its  very  thought  ?  And  when  I  shift 
my  attentif)n  and  move  my  left  thumb  to  the  right,  is 
there  a  pause  in  my  consciousness  of  all  these  things  ? 
Not  at  all ;  I  am  just  as  conscious  of  my  thumbs,  of  my 


76        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

organic  affections,  of  myself,  between  the  movements  or 
during  them.  A  simple  change  in  my  motor  experience 
can  in  no  sense  be  said  to  create  a  j)ause  or  break  in  my 
consciousness.  Each  hemisphere,  instead  of  contribut- 
ing a  separate  consciousness,  contributes  an  element  of 
content  to  my  single  consciousness — a  motor  element. 
And  further,  attention  itself  as  a  principle  of  active  unity 
is  dei^endent  upon  the  complexity  of  the  mental  life.  The 
selecting,  relating,  unifying,  dis^Dosing  function  of  atten- 
tion has  been  so  emphasized  in  recent  discussion  that  it 
is  needless  to  dwell  upon  it. 

We  have  thus  briefly  touched  upon  three  elements  of 
mental  unity  which  analysis  seems  to  give  and  which  demand 
explanation  whatever  hypothesis  we  adopt.  First,  a  subjec- 
tive reference  of  all  modifications,  both  sensor  and  motor ; 
second,  the  subordination  of  incidents  in  consciousness,  past 
and  present,  to  the  permanence  of  consciousness  itself,  winch 
remains  as  the  background  of  their  flow  ;  third,  the  grasping 
and  disposing  energy  of  attention,  which  is  always  one.  The 
class  of  movements  hitherto  spoken  of,  i.e.,  those  which  are 
controlled  by  the  hemispheres  individually,  with  no  coopera- 
tion, bear  only  upon  the  incidents  and  not  upon  the  higher 
aspects  of  mental  unity. 

If  the  case  rested  simply  with  this  class  of  movements, 
Maudsley  might  strengthen  himself  by  extending  the  differ- 
ence of  function  not  to  the  two  hemispheres  only,  but  to  each 
of  the  motor  areas  within  each  hemisphere.  The  motor 
speech-centre,  for  example,  is  distinct  from  the  centre  for  the 
movement  of  the  lower  limbs.  We  can  perform  the  two  func- 
tions— speaking  and  walking — simultaneously,  but  cannot 
attend  to  them  simultaneously  until  a  close  association  is 
brought  about  by  education.  Therefore,  it  might  be  argued, 
motor  consciousness  is  a  matter  of  successive  states  and  lacks 
unity.  From  this  point  of  view  we  have  not  two  brains 
(centres),  but,  perhaps,  a  dozen.  But  the  unity  of  the  men- 
tal life,  for  wliich  the  motor  consciousness  only  serves  as 
point  of  departure,  remains  quite  untouched. 

Secoiid  Argument :  from  the  conjoint  activity  of  the 
hemispheres.  Maudsley  next  proceeds  to  consider  those 
movements  in  which  the  hemispheres  cooperate  ;  they 


ORGANIC  THEORY  OF  MENTAL    UNITY.  77 

"  combine  to  dictate  different  movements  of  the  two 
sides  for  a  common  end,  just  as  the  eyes  combine  the 
different  visions  of  one  object."  The  question  is  this : 
"  From  what  higher  source  do  the  hemispheres  obtain 
their  governing  principle  of  unity  ?  How  is  it  that  when 
dictating  different  movements  they  yet  have  an  under- 
standing to  work  together  to  a  common  end  ?"  And  the 
answer  is  again  that  the  unity  of  the  motor  conscious- 
ness is  an  educated  unity,  and  that,  like  two  acrobats,  they 
learn  to  perform  together  "  by  much  travail  and  pain." 

Answer.  This  is  true,  and  its  importance  can  hardly 
be  estimated  ;  but  it  again  must  be  criticised  on  the 
ground  of  what  it  leaves  out.  We  are  forced  at  once  to 
inquire  :  Whose  is  the  "  end  or  aim  in  view,"  the  "  con- 
ception or  foresight  of  the  act,  its  ideal  accomplish- 
ment "  ?  Certainly  not  the  conception  of  the  hemispheres 
themselves,  though  the  figure  of  the  acrobats  would 
lead  us  to  think  so  ;  for  how  could  such  a  conception  be 
acquired  by  the  hemispheres  before  the  action  had  been 
actually  performed  ?  And  if  thus  acquired,  how  could 
it  be  intercommunicated  without  a  central  bureau  of 
consciousness  where  the  progress  of  the  coordination  of 
movement  might  be  apprehended  and  recorded  ?  The 
conception  which  precedes  all  effort  at  motor  execution 
is  a  fact  of  unit}',  higher  mental  unity,  an  ideal  unity  of 
the  motor  consciousness  to  which  the  complex  activity  of 
the  motor  apparatus  is  to  be  reduced  hy  long  and  weari- 
some effort.  Here,  again,  is  the  outgoing  of  the  attention 
in  its  relating  and  efficient  activit}^  grasping  the  whole 
while  itself  is  one,  relating  the  many  in  an  ideal  which 
is  one,  and  reducing  the  many  to  the  unity  of  the  fore- 
going ideal  plan.  Here,  as  in  the  former  case,  we  find 
no  fjiult  with  the  account  of  what  takes  place  in  and 
foi-  tliH  motor  consciousness  ;  ])ut  we  cannot  see  how 
this  conHciousness  cun  l)e  considered  for  itself  alone  in 
independence   of  the  higher  th<mght-consciousness  in 


78        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

•which  alone  the  idea  of  motor  cooperation  germinates 
and  bears  fruit.  And  our  conclusion  is  that  mental 
unity  is  something  independent  of  coordinated  move- 
ments. 

The  other  figure  which  Dr.  Maudsley  uses  in  this 
connection  makes  the  case  still  plainer.  He  says  the 
hemispheres  are  related  to  each  other,  in  such  coordi- 
nated movements,  as  the  eyes  are  in  binocular  vision, 
their  early  binary  images  being  reduced  by  experience  to 
a  unitary  perception.  But  the  eyes  do  not  accomplish 
this  themselves.  The  ideal  plan  of  vision  precedes  all 
reduction.  Let  us  suj^pose  the  eyes  to  be  the  seat  of 
consciousness.  Now,  either  each  eye  has  its  conscious- 
ness, or  there  is  a  single  consciousness  for  both  eyes.  If 
each  has  its  own  consciousness,  neither  eye  could  be 
conscious  of  its  disagreement  with  the  other  and  their 
results  could  never  be  reduced  to  unity  except  by  acci- 
dent. If  there  is  one  consciousness  for  both  eyes,  it  is 
in  virtue  of  this  unit  consciousness  that  a  unit  perception 
is  attained  and  not  from  anything  in  the  eyes  them- 
selves ;  that  is,  it  is  only  through  the  interpretation  of  a 
unit  consciousness,  which  renders  both  images  as  such 
possible,  that  they  can  be  reduced  to  the  form  of  vision 
which  is  their  ideal  conception. 

The  mental  unity  to  be  explained  is  something  more 
profound  than  the  simple  consideration  of  the  motor 
consciousness  would  lead  us  to  expect ;  it  remains  to 
see  whether  the  organic  solution  offered  by  Maudsley  is 
adequate. 

II.  Mental  Unity  entirely  Affective  and  (III)  esplained 
by  Norvous  Unity.  The  two  great  questions  here  in- 
volved are  these :  Is  the  "  unity  of  the  intellectual  life 
based  upon  the  unity  of  feeling,"  and  "  this  again  upon 
the  unity  of  the  organic  life"  ?     These  questions  are  so 


ORGANIC  THEORY  OF  MENTAL    UNITY.  79 

S         comprehensive  and  far-reaching  that  only  a  few  general 
considerations  can  be  advanced  in  this  connection. 

Ansiver.    1.  The  same  line  of  argument  by  which  Dr. 
Maudsley  and  others'  prove  the  absence  of  unity  in  the 
motor  consciousness  applies  with  undiminished  force^  to 
the  affective  consciousness.     Can  we  attend  to  two  sim- 
ple sensations  in  two  peripheral  organs  at  once,  say  a 
taste  and  the  pain  of  a  wound  in  the  hand  ?     Not  at  all. 
The  case  is  just  the  same  as  when  we  try  to  perform  two 
movements  on  different   sides  at  once.      There  is  the 
same  alternation  of  attention  until  the  sensations  become 
united  in  a  single  attention-complex.     The  isolation  of 
single  affective  states  in  our  adult  life  is  open  to  the 
same  charge  of  psychological  atomism  as  has  been  found 
attaching   to    the     similar   isolation    of    motor    states. 
Indeed,  simple   feelings   of  movement   are    themselves 
affective  states,  being  simply  intensive,   and  the  argu- 
ment from  them  applies  to  all  states  of  the  class.     The 
feeling  of  effort  which  is  bound  up  with  movements  is 
quite  distinct  in  its  nature,  and  seems,  as  has  been  said, 
to  indicate  a  higher  plane  of  intellectual  unity,  which 
the  theory  in  question  leaves  quite  out  of  account. 

2.  We  may  well  notice  that  neither  the  manifoldness 
nor  the  unity  of  feeling  could  be  apprehended  as  such 
in  the  absence  of  a  circumscribing  consciousness  which, 
through  its  own  unity,  takes  it  to  be  wdiat  it  is.  Sup- 
pose we  admit  that  at  the  beginnings  of  life  the  inner 
state  is  simply  an  undifferentiated  continuity  of  sensa- 
tion ;  what  is  it  that/eefe  or  hioivs  the  subsequent  differ- 
entiation of  parts  of  this  continuity  ?  It  cannot  be  the 
unity  of  the  continuity  itself,  for  that  is  now  destroyed  ; 
it  cannot  be  the  differentiated  sensations  themselves,  for 
they  are  many.     It  can  only  be  a  unitary  subjectivity 


'  Horwicz. 


80        THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

additional  to  the  unity  of  the  sensory  content,  i.e.,  tlie 
form  of  s^mtlietic  activity  which  reduces  the  many  to 
one  in  each  and  all  of  the  stages  of  mental  growth. 
The  relations  of  ideas  as  units  must  be  taken  up  into 
the  unit  idea  of  relation — to  express  what  modern 
psychology  means  by  apperception. 

3.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  higher  intellectual 
unity,  of  which  we  have  spoken,  can  find  its  basal  prin- 
ciple in  the  organic  unity  of  the  body.  Admitting, 
with  Maudsley,  that  mind  is  a  matter  of  organization, 
the  progressive  organization  of  residua,  we  never  are 
able  to  go  outside  the  unity  of  consciousness  to  find 
mental  residua.  Indeed,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as 
a  residuum,  except  as  it  is  the  same  in  nature  as  that 
of  which  it  is  a  residuum :  and  admitting  further  that 
the  body  is  also  an  organization  and  an  organization 
which  proceeds  in  the  most  intimate  and  progressive 
parallelism  with  that  of  mind,  we  are  yet  unable  to 
make  mental  organization  a  function  of  physical  organi- 
zation until  these  propositions  are  established  :  (a)  That 
the  law  of  the  organic  growth  of  mind  finds  its  proxi- 
mate ground  in  the  growth  of  body ;  that  is,  that  the 
methods  of  nervous  integration  run  also  into  mental 
integration.  Now,  as  a  fact,  the  great  principle  of 
mental  organization,  selective  synthesis,  finds  no  ap- 
parent counterpart  in  physics ;  its  higher  products  find 
no  objective  realization  in  the  syntheses  of  physical 
organization.  It  seems,  as  Lotze  says,  to  be  unique. 
{h)  That  there  is  a  correlation  of  mental  and  physical 
force,  a  principle  everywhere  assumed  by  Maudsley  and 
others,  but  nowhere  proved,  (c)  That  mind  in  its  pro- 
gressive organization  does  not  exhibit  autonomic  energies 
of  its  own,  constructs  no  ideals  of  its  own  ;  and  further, 
that  the  two  aspects  of  unity,  physical  and  mental,  are 
not  themselves  members  of  an  underlying  principle  to 


HEREDITY  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS.  81 

which   they   are   both    secondary  and   which    may  be 

mind.' 

The  conchision  thus  reached  may  be  further  strengthened 
by  an  appeal  to  the  psychology  of  volition.'^  Although,  for 
clearness  of  argument  and  cviticism,  this  coDsideration  has 
so  far  been  omitted,  we  shall  find  the  crucial  evidence  of 
mental  unity  in  the  unity  of  volition.  When  the  organic 
theory  of  unity  has  successfully  fulfilled  the  requirements 
already  exacted  of  it,  it  will  be  time  to  demand  that  it  give 
something  like  adequate  recognition  to  the  outstanding  facts 
of  the  volitional  life.  Prof.  Bain,  at  any  rate,  goes  with  us 
in  locating  the  unity  of  consciousness  in  the  active  or  "  ex- 
ecutive" function.' 

Recent  endeavors  to  reduce  the  unity  of  consciousness 
are  based  on  pathological  cases  in  which  consciousness  is  split 
up  into  two  or  three,  or  subsidiary  consciousnesses  are  found 
corresponding  to  partial  expressions  of  the  unity  of  the  or- 
ganism.^ But  these  cases  are  not  conclusive  as  long  as  the 
function  of  consciousness  is  not  accounted  for.  Each  split- 
off  consciousness  does  something  which  nothing  else  in  the 
world  can  do.  Let  us  manipulate  consciousness  as  much  as 
possible  by  manipulating  the  nervous  S3^stem,  yet  as  long  as 
each  piece  of  consciousness  acts  as  only  consciousness  can 
act,  with  a  unity  of  its  own,  we  have  a  thing  sui  gener'is  : 
for  action,  function,  is  the  only  test  of  a  thing. 


§  7.  Heeedity  and  Consciousness. 

The  obscurity  which  envelops  the  biological  problem 
of  heredity  grows  deeper  still  when  we  seek  to  bring  the 
phenomena  of  mental  heredity  under  any  general  state- 
ment. We  may  say  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  mental 
heredity ;  that  is,  we  may  expand  the  conception  of  con- 
scious integration  or  mental  growth  beyond  the  range  of 

'  On  this  discussion  see  the  acute  observations  of  Dumont,  loc.  eit., 
chaps.  V,  and  vi. 

*  Chap.  XVI,  below. 

2  Emotions  and  Will,  Appendix  A. 

*Maud.sley,  Ribot  (Diseases  of  Personality),  Binet  (arts,  in  Revue 
PhiloHojMque) :  the  most  remarkable  facts  are  recorded  by  Janet, 
Automalisme  psycfiologique,. 


82        TUE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

individual  experience  into  race  experience.  But  in  so 
doing  we  must  bear  in  mind  tliat  mental  growth  depends 
upon  physiological  retention.  Consequently,  psycho- 
logical heredity,  strictly  considered,  would  not  include 
the  inheritance  of  mental  images  or  mental  products  of 
any  kind :  we  have  found  such  a  storiug-up  capacity  in 
the  mind  to  be  mythological.  But  mental  inheritance 
would  consist  in  a  tendency  to  stronger  and  better 
developed  mental  function.  As  far  as  our  knowledge 
goes,  it  is  this  aspect  of  mental  heredity  which  actual 
observation  confirms.  Parent  and  child  have  in  com- 
mon strong  or  weak  logical  ability,  keen  or  blunt  sensi- 
bility, strength  or  irresoluteness  of  will ;  but  we  find  no 
reference  of  their  logical  ability,  or  of  their  peculiar 
emotional  or  volitional  disposition  to  any  particular 
class  of  objects. 

Yet  we  find  in  animals  remarkable  cases  of  such 
particular  forms  of  inheritance.  The  whole  class  of 
animal  instincts  have  such  particular  reference.  How 
can  we  explain  the  chick's  congenital  fear  of  the  hawk, 
except  by  supposing  the  inheritance  of  a  particular  re- 
action stimulated  by  the  presence  of  the  hawk?  In 
such  cases,  however,  an  organic  explanation  suffices. 
Here  the  inheritance,  besides  involving  the  broader  and 
more  massiv6  features  of  the  parent's  nervous  constitu- 
tion, extends  as  well  to  particular  habitual  reactions; 
and  these  latter  are  so  consolidated  even  before  expe- 
rience that  they  respond  to  their  appropriate  stimuli. 
Because  the  child's  limbs  show  an  alternating  reaction 
when  the  soles  of  the  feet  are  stimulated,  we  would  not 
say  that  the  child  inherited  mental  images  of  the  mus- 
cular movements  involved  in  walking. 

Further,  the  limit  which  our  present  knowledge  im- 
poses upon  the  principle  of  nervous  heredity  applies 
also  to  mental  heredity ;  such  inheritance  is  limited  to 
cases  of  immediate  descent.     Only  where  possible  gen- 


HEREDITY  AND  CONSCIOUSNESS.  83 

eration  demonstrates  nervous  heredity  have  we  any 
ground  stronger  than  analogy  for  postulating  mental 
continuity  of  development.  The  question  of  mental 
evolution  is  a  vital  one  in  j)resent  philosophical  dis- 
cussion: and  in  this  generation  important  contribu- 
tions to  its  solution  are  being  made.  This  reference  to 
it,  however,  is  sufficient  to  indicate  the  point  at  which 
it  would  have  its  psychological  importance,  and  beyond 
such  an  indication  empirical  psychology  has  no  right 
to  gOo 

On  the  nercous  system  as  organ  of  consciousness,  consult :  refer- 
ences in  Senses  and  Intellect,  pp.  34,  68,  and  114  ;  Bastian,  Brain 
as  an  Organ  of  Jllnd ;  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i. 
chaps,  ii-iil  ;  Bain,  Mind  and  Body  ;  Maudsley,  Body  and  Mind 
and  Body  and  Will;  Herzen,  loc.  cit.;  Kibot,  Diseases  of  Person- 
ality ;  LewHS.  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind,  3d  series,  i  and  ii ;  Hor- 
wicz,  Psychologische  Analysen,  Theil  I.  2d  Absch.,  and  Theil  II.  1st 
half,  bk.  I ;  Bouillier,  La  vrai  Conscience,  chaps  ii-iv  and  (unity 
of)  VII ;  Brentauo,  Psychologie,  I.  bk.  ii.  chap,  iv ;  Paulhan,  Vac- 
tivite  cerebrate  et  les  elements  de  V Esprit,  pt.  ii.  bk.  ii  (inhibition)  ; 
Calderwood,  Mind  and  Brain,  chaps,  viii-ix  ;  Wundt,  Menschen 
tend  Thierseele,  5-9te  Vorl.;  Terrier,  Functions  of  the  Brain,  2d  ed., 
chap.  XII  ;  Hoffding,  Outlines  of  Psychology,  ii ;  Romanes,  Mental' 
Evol.  in  Animals,  chaps,  i-vii  ;  Sergi,  Psycli.  physiologique,  liv.  IL 
chaps,  i-iii,  and  liv.  in.  chap,  i  ;  Miinsterberg,  Beitrdge  zur  experi- 
mentelen  Psychologie,  i,  Einleitung ;  Fechner,  Elemente  der  Psy~ 
chophysik,  2d  ed.,  pp.  377  ff.;  Ladd,  Elements,  part  ii.  chaps,  i-lil' 
and  ix-x,  and  part  in.  chap,  in  -,  Spencer,  Princ.  of  Psychology,  L 
part  I.  chaps,  i-vi,  and  part  v.  chap,  viii ;  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will, 
pp.  539  if.  and  Appendix  A  ;  Lotze,  Metaphysic,  bk.  III.  chap,  r 
(inhibition)  ;  Symposium  in  Brain,  xi.  pp.  361  f. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 

The  nervous  accompaniments  of  the  attention ; 

Inhibition  in  psychology  ; 

Mental  heredity  ; 

Mental  evolution  in  animals  and  man. 


CHAPTER  III. 

NATURE  AND  DIVISIONS  OF  SENSIBILITY. 

§  1.  Nature  of  Sensibility. 

Definition.  The  transition  now  made  from  the  ner- 
vous basis  of  mind  to  the  phenomena  of  consciousness 
leads  to  topics  more  properly  psychological.  The  term 
sensibility  has  been  used  heretofore  as  almost  synony- 
mous with  consciousness ,  at  least  the  assumption  has 
been  made  that  when  consciousness  is  once  reached, 
sensibility  or  feeling  is  its  primary  and  most  general 
characteristic. 

Empirical  observation  justifies  this  assumption.  Our 
final  interpretation  of  all  mental  facts  in  common  life  is 
in  terms  of  personal  feeling.  How  do  I  know  that  I  am 
willing  a  given  act  of  conduct  ?  Because  I  feel  the  act 
of  will.  My  immediate  ground  of  confidence  is  a  quali- 
tative state  of  being  affected,  which  I  have  learned  to 
distinguish  in  my  experience  under  the  name  will.  How 
again  do  I  reach  the  assurance  that  I  am  thinking  and 
not  willing  ?  By  a  similar  awareness  of  feeling.  I  am 
affected  in  the  way  which  I  call  thought.  The  original 
awareness  of  consciousness,  therefore,  is  an  affective  state, 
and  as  consciousness  is  the  form  of  all  subjectivity,  so 
sensibility,  feeling,  is  its  first  content. 

If  this  be  true,  we  would  expect  to  find  feeling  every- 
where in  the  mental  life.  It  would  be  a  more  or  less 
prominent  accompaniment  of  all  possible  states  of  con- 
sciousness. This  view,  though  generally  admitted  by 
psychologists,  is  only  partially  accounted  for  on  many 

84 


DEFINITION.  85 

of  the  theories  of  sensibility ;  it  will  become  clearer 
after  the  examination  and  description  of  the  various 
classes  of  feelings. 

Looked  at  from  this  aspect  of  universality  which  sen- 
sibility presents,  from  its  logical  primacy  among  con- 
scious states,  and  from  its  peculiar  subjectivity  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  objective  reference  of  intellect  and  will,  we 
may  arrive  at  a  general  definition  of  feeling  :  feeling  is 
the  subjective  side  of  any  modification  luhatever  of  conscious- 
ness, or  it  is  the  simple  aivareness  of  the  unrefiecting  con- 
sciousness. 

The  force  of  the  position  here  taken  will  oe  more  evident 
after  tlie  general  discussion  of  emotion,  especially  since  two 
great  theories  of  the  emotions — the  physiological  and  the 
Herbartian — agree  in  denying  to  the  emotions  ultimate  qualita- 
tive distinctions.  Here  as  elsewhere  our  final  position  must 
rest  upon  the  facts  of  consciousness. 

A  description  of  pure  sensibility  has  already  been  attempt- 
ed above  in  speaking  of  passive  consciousness,'  and  it  is  un- 
necessary to  repeat  it  here.  The  fact  of  feeling  is  so  clear  in 
our  common  experience  that  no  more  exact  definition  would 
be  needed  if  it  were  possible.  What  we  mean  by  my  con- 
sciousness in  opposition  to  your  consciousness  sums  up  feel- 
ings. You  can  know  what  I  know  and  you  can  will  what  1 
will,  but  you  cannot  by  any  possibility  feel  what  I  feel :  this  is 
subjectivity,  this  peculiar  and  unapproachable  isolation  of  one 
consciousness  from  another. 

Most  General  Mark  of  Sensibility.  A  distinction  has 
already  been  drawn  between  common  or  general  sensibil- 
ity, and  the  more  particular  kinds  of  affective  modification 
which  we  call  senscdions.  The  latter  belong,  speaking 
generally,  to  the  more  difi"erentiated  portions  of  the 
nervous  system  provided  with  special  end-organs.  Of 
these  we  may  also  say  that  the}^  have  their  seat  in  par- 
ticular brain-areas,  though  it  is  likely  that  this  will  not 
prove  to  be  a  permanent  mark  of  distinction  when  our 


>  Chap.  II.  §  3. 


86  NATURE  AND  DIVISIONS  OF  SENSIBILITY. 

knowledge  of  the  brain-functions  has  become  more  com- 
plete. 

lu  common  feeling ,''  therefore,  are  included  all  modifi- 
cations of  sensibility  which  do  not  come  under  any  of  the 
classes  of  sj^ecial  sensation.  Stated  thus  negatively,  the 
way  is  open  for  the  differentiation  of  this  great  fund  of 
sensibilit}^  into  as  mau}^  particular  divisions  as  psycho- 
logical analysis  may  be  able  to  discover. 

"When  such  analysis  has  been  pushed  to  its  extreme 
and  qualitative  differences  in  sensibility  have  been 
pointed  out  as  far  as  may  be,  the  point  of  interest  then 
remaining  has  reference  to  the  most  general  mark  of 
sensibility  itself,  the  common  element  beneath  all  its 
concrete  forms.  What  is  it  that  brings  the  special  as 
•well  as  the  organic  sensations,  the  vaguest  feelings  of 
physical  unrest  as  w^ell  as  the  acutest  pang  of  an  exposed 
nerve,  all  under  the  common  name  feeling '?  Such  a  com- 
mon mark  cannot  be  found  in  the  simple  fact  of  con- 
sciousness, for  other  mental  states,  intellectual  and  voli- 
tional, are  also  conscious.  Yet  it  must  be  something 
that  attaches  primarily  to  consciousness,  since  sensibil- 
ity as  a  form  of  subjective  modification  presents  closest 
analogies  with  the  nervous  basis  of  consciousness.  With- 
out anticipating  a  later  justification  of  this  decision,  it 
is  plain  that  this  most  general  characteristic  of  sensibil- 
ity is  pleasure  and  pain. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  therefore,  may  be  set  apart,  at 
least  for  convenience  of  exposition,  from  the  particular 
mental  phenomena  which  they  accompany.  If  pleasure 
and  pain  be  truly  designated  as  the  most  general  char- 
acteristic of  sensibility,  then  no  mental  state  whatever 
would  be  entirely  neutral  as  respects  pleasure  or  pain. 
Yet  in  the  great  complexity  of  the  developed  mental 
life,  where  cross-currents  of  feeling  interfere  with  one 

'  German,  Gemeingefi'M. 


GENERAL  MARK.  87 

another  and  neutralize  tlie  effects  of  one  another,  it  is 
quite  possible  that  pleasure  and  pain  may  not  enter  as 
an  outstanding  feature  of  consciousness  :  indeed  such  a 
real  neutrality  as  regards  pleasure  and  pain  may  be  at- 
tained in  the  bosom  of  sensibility^  that  while  feeliug 
remains,  its  tone  is  without  positive  conscious  coloring. 
This  possibilit}-,  however,  must  wait  upon  the  further 
consideration  of  pleasure  and  j)ain. 

It  is,  therefore,  safe  to  speak  of  the  feelings  as  phenomena 
of  pleasure  and  pain.  If  there  be  exceptional  cases,  it  is  be- 
cause such  states  are  rich  in  tone,  not  because  all  tone  is 
absent.  This  is  an  easy  criterion  and  the  one  generally  recog- 
nized by  psychologists,  the  question  of  neutrality  being  main- 
ly of  theoretical  interest.' 

As  concrete  facts,  however,  pleasure  and  pain  are 
always  elements  added  to  some  conscious  content.  It  is 
in  this  aspect  that  they  are  described  as  tone,  the  states 
of  which  they  are  the  tone  being  more  or  less  exactly  dis- 
coverable. According  as  they  are  thus  realized  as  one 
element  in  a  comj)lex,  they  give  the  name  complex  sensi- 
bility to  the  complex;  in  contrast  to  simple  sensibility y 
which  is  pleasure  or  pain  abstracted  from  all  such 
complexity.* 


1  See  Cbap.  XI.  §  4. 

*  Some  writers  find  a  something  called  "feeling"  apart  both  from 
qualitative  sensations  and  from  pleasure  and  pain;  Ladd,  loc.  cit.,  p.  514  ; 
Nahlowski,  loc.  cit.,  p.  IBl.  I  am  unable  to  find  any  such  pureunquali- 
tative  feeling,  either  in  sensation  or  emotion.  Wundt's  later  position 
seems  more  true,  namely,  that  sensation  and  sensuous  feeling  are  one 
and  the  same  thing. 


88  NATURE  AND  DIVISIONS  OF  SENSIBILITY. 

§  2.  Divisions  of  Sensibility. 

In  view  of  the  foregoing,  states  of  sensibility  may  be 
thrown  into  the  following  table  : 
Sensibility : 

I.  Lower,  or  Sensuous,  Sensibility. 

a.  Complex  :  sensuous  feelings. 

1.  Common  sensuous  feeling. 

2.  Special  sensuous  feelings  :  sensations. 
h.   Simple :  sensuous  tone. 

II.  Higher,  or  Ideal,  Sensibility. 

a.  Complex  :  ideal  feelings. 

1.  Common  ideal  feeling. 

2.  Special  ideal  feelings  :  emotions. 
h.  Simple  :  ideal  tone. 

Accordingly  we  turn  at  once  to  sensuous  feeling.  The 
term  feeling  as  now  used  signifies  any  affective  state  whatever, 
the  general  sign  or  mark  of  feeling  being  its  tone  of  pleasure 
or  pain.  This  usage,  which  has  its  justification  here,  is  seen 
to  be  the  same  as  that  tacitly  adopted  in  the  former  volume 
throughout. 

On  the  nature  aiid  classiflcatioji  of  feelings,  consult :  Mercier, 
Nervous  System  and  Mind,  pp.  280  f.,  and  Mind,  ix.  325,  509, 
and  X.  1  ;  Nahlowski,  loc.  eit.,  pp.  41  f.  ;  Hamilton,  Metaphysics, 
Lects.  XLI  and  XLV  ;  Biunde,  Empirischen  Psychologie,  ii.  §  210  ; 
Herbart,  Lehrbuch  d.  Psychologie,  §  98  ;  Kant,  Anthropologie  (ed. 
Kirchmann),  p.  138 ;  Schneider,  Thierische  Wille,  pp.  95  ff. ;  the 
Psychologies,  inlocis;  Hodgson,  Theory  of  Pi-actice,  bk.  i.  chap.  ii. 
part  I ;  Horwicz,  Psychologische  Analysen,  Theil  II.  2d  half,  bk.  i, 
and  pp.  521-24  ;  Drbal,  Psychologie,  §S  106-110  ;  vSergi,  Psych. 
Physiologique,  liv.  iv.  chaps.  I,  n  ;  Paffe,  Considerations  sur  la 
Sensibilite;  Dumont,  Theorie  de  la  Sensibilite,  part  i  and  part  ii. 
chap.  1 ;  Sully,  Outlines,  chap,  xi ;  Ladd,  Elements,  part  n.  chap,  ix  ; 
Spencer,  Psychology,  part  iv.  chap,  viir ;  Bain.  Emotions  and  Will, 
pt.  I.  chap,  ni,  and  Appendix  B  ;  Brown,  Philos.  of  Human  Mind, 
Led.  52. 


SENSUOUS  FEELING. 

CHAPTEK    lY. 
SENSATION  AND  COMMON  FEELING. 

§  1.  Sexsatioxs  as  Forms  of  Sensibility. 

The  dual  character  of  sensation  as  presentative  and 
aflfective  has  been  emphasized  in  a  former  chapter.  The 
presentative  side  was  held  up  for  prominent  review  in 
the  discussion  of  the  intellect,  since  developed  knowl- 
edge has  its  point  of  departure  in  sense-knowledge. 
Yet  even  there,  occasion  was  taken  to  point  out  the  more 
striking  affective  quality  of  sensations  considered  as  the 
first  things  of  mind.  Subsequent  reflection  disclosed 
the  fact  also  that  the  results  of  analysis  are  one  with 
the  results  of  simple  observation  ;  the  so-called  pre- 
sentative elements  were  seen  to  be  due  to  reactions  of 
the  apperceptive  principle  on  hypothetical  affective  ele. 
ments.'  This  means  that  if  we  were  able  to  abstract  all 
traces  of  apperception,  as  a  process  of  relation,  from  con- 
sciousness, the  data  left  would  be  entirely  affective,  and 
the  distinctions  among  phenomena — if  any  remained — 
would  be  due  to  the  primary  properties  of  feeling.  In 
other  words,  to  be  perfectly  clear,  there  seems  to  be  no 
original  knowledge  antecedent  to  the  knowledge  which 
is  constituted  by  the  reaction  of  consciousness  as  apper- 
ception. 

'  This  statement  anticipates  the  analysis  of  tbc  idea  of  force  :  the 
earlier  analysis  of  space  and  time,  the  other  "  presentative  elements, " 
justifying  the  statement  apart  from  force. 

89 


90  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

It  lias  also  been  claimed,  in  an  earlier  connection, 
that  while  these  states  of  feeling  called  sensations  are 
one  in  their  peculiar  nature  as  affective,  thej  are  differ- 
ent from  one  another  as  respects  quality.  The  theory 
of  the  "  Unity  of  Composition  of  Mind " '  has  been 
found  to  be  inadequately  supported.  Sensations,  that  is, 
have  qualitative  marks  or  distinctions  inside  the  concep- 
tion of  sensibility  ;  and  while  we  are  able  to  reduce  the 
nervous  functions  which  accompany  them  to  a  single 
conception,  no  such  reduction  of  sensations  seems  forth- 
coming. 

A  very  brief  re-vdew  of  the  qualitative  distinctions 
among  sensations,  accordingly,  may  be  found  sufficient 
here.  Disregarding  the  presentative  element,  so  called, 
the  following  classes  of  special  sensations  may  be 
pointed  out,  the  rule  of  choice  being  the  presence  of 
distinct  end-organs  :  from  the  eye,  sensations  of  light- 
intensity  and  of  color ;  from  the  ear,  sensations  of 
sound-intensity,  timbre,  and  height ;  from  the  tongue, 
sensations  of  taste  ;  from  the  nostril,  sensations  of  smell ; 
from  the  skin,  sensations  of  contact  and  temperature  ; 
from  the  muscles,  sensations  of  movement. 

It  may  be  well  also  to  recall  at  this  point  the  properties  of 
sensation,  quantity,  quality,  duration,  and  tone.  With  tlie 
first  three  conceptions  we  iiave  ah-eady  busied  ourselves;  the 
fourth  will  have  abundant  claim  to  recognition  as  v/e  proceed. 

A  further  analogy  in  favor  of  the  "  Unity  of  Composi- 
tion" or  ''Mindstuff^'  theory  might  be  found  in  the  con- 
ception of  the  nervous  system  advanced  in  the  preceding 
pages.  If  the  nervous  system  lias  resulted  from  the  integra- 
tion of  original  nerve-eletnents  of  a  single  kind,  is  it  not 
likely  that  consciousness  in  its  complexity  has  had  a  corre- 
sponding development  under  a  single  principle  of  integration  ? 
If  this  analogy  applies  at  all,  it  applies  to  the  development 
of  consciousness  after  consciousness  is  given  :  that  is,  the 
unity  of  consciousness  must  be  presupposed,  as  we  have  seen 
above.     But  after  we  enter  consciousness,  we  find  a  principle 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  vii.  §  4. 


CONTRAST.  91 

of  apperception  to  which  there  is  no  analogy  in  physiological 
integration.  Consequently  this  argument  would  apply  only 
to  differentiation  in  the  bosom  of  pure  sensibility,  being 
restricteil  both  above  and  below.  But  the  attempt  to  reduce 
sensations  to  a  nnit  form  of  sensibility  has  been  examined 
under  the  ''Theory  of  Unity  of  Composition."  So  eveiy 
aspect  of  this  analogy  has  had  careful  attention  ;  whether  it 
still  holds  or  not,  in  spite  of  this  adverse  treatment,  is  another 
question.' 

Relativity  of  Sense-qualities :'-  Contrast.  While  we  do 
not  find  ground  for  the  reduction  of  sense-qualities  to  a 
single  mode  of  sensibility,  yet  we  do  find  a  series  of 
phenomena  wliicli  show  that  there  is  no  fixed  typical 
sensation  of  each  quality  ;  but  that  all  determinations 
of  quality  are  to  a  degree  relative  distinctions  among 
many  "  moments"  in  consciousness.  These  are  the  so- 
called  phenomena  of  contrast.  The  general  statement  of 
fact  is  this :  Any  sensation  (color,  sound,  taste)  which 
occurs  after  or  with  other  sensations  (colors,  etc.)  is 
different  from  what  it  would  have  been  if  the  other  sen- 
sations had  not  been  present,  or  if  the  other  sensations 
had  themselves  been  different  :  the  variation,  however, 
is  within  the  same  sense-quality^ 

In  the  domain  of  the  special  senses,  such  effects  of 
one  sense-quality  upon  another  may  be  subjected  to 
experimental  determination  by  psycho-physical  methods. 
The  phenomena  of  color-contrast  are  the  richest  and 
best  understood  class  of  facts.  In  general,  color-con- 
trast means  that  when  part  of  the  retina  is  stimulated 
to  react  to  a  particular  color,  there  is  a  tendency  of  other 
portions  to  react  to  the  complementary  color.  For 
example,  the  so-called  "  Meyer's  experiment  "  may  be 
cited  :   put  a   scrap  of   gray  paper  on  a  colored  (red) 

'  Since  the  section  on  the  "  Unity  of  Composition  "  theory  was 
■written,  Prof.  Jnmes  h:is  imblished  nn  acute  criticism  in  substautiul 
agreement  with  it :  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i.  chap.  vi. 

'  On  the  relativity  of  emotions,  see  Chap.  X.  §  1. 


92  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

background,  and  spread  over  the  wliole  a  slieet  of  -u-bite 
tissue  ;'  the  gray  scrap  will  now  tend  to  assume  the  color 
complementary  to  the  background  (green).  Kecent  re- 
search has  developed  a  number  of  interesting  optical 
phenomena  of  this  class.  Stumpf  ^  has  recently  discov- 
ered that  the  pitch  of  a  note  is  modified  by  the  occur- 
rence of  another  note  of  a  different  pitch,  in  such  a  way 
that  the  interval  between  them  is  lessened.  Striking 
contrasts  are  also  easily  demonstrated  in  color,  light, 
and  tone  intensities.  Contrasts  of  temjjerature  are  also 
easily  brought  about.  Cold  water  feels  colder  if  the 
hand  is  just  from  warm  water.  Differences  in  tempera- 
ture of  the  two  hands  lead  to  exaggerated  differences 
of  sensation  when  they  are  plunged  together  into  two 
vessels  of  water  of  the  same  temperature.  Contrast  is 
called  simultaneous  or  successive  according  as  the  rival 
sensational  qualities  occur  together  or  in  succession. 

Two  theories  of  sensational  contrast  have  been  ad- 
vocated, one  called  the  "psychological,"  according  to 
which  such  contrasts  are  errors  of  Judgment  or  synthe- 
sis, the  actual  sensations  themselves  having  fixed  and 
unaltered  qualities.  This  has  been  held  by  Helmholtz,' 
and  has  been  used  to  support  the  theory  of  "  unconscious 
judgment."  The  other,  the  "physiological  theory," 
holds  that  contrast-effects  are  due  to  complex  conditions 
of  stimulation.  The  different  color-stimuli,  for  example, 
are  not  reported  separately  to  consciousness ;  but  only 
their  united  effect  is  operative  in  the  optical  centre. 
Consequently,  what  we  have  is  a  case  of  summation  or 
fusion  of  stimuli,  not  of  comparison  and  judgment  of 
sensational   atoms.      This   latter   theory   is   now    com- 

•  The  white  sheet  over  the  whole  is  necessary  to  obscure  distiuct 
lines  of  separation  between  the  colors  beneath :  if  such  distinct 
boundary-lines  are  exposed,  the  contrast- phenomena  disappear. 

'  Tonpsychologie,  ii ;  see  Mind,  x\a.  p.  279. 

'  Phyfiiological  Optica,  pp.  388  f. 


SENSATION  AND  KNOWLEDGE.  93 

pletely  victorious,  principally  tlirougli  the  brilliant  ex- 
perimental work  of  Heriug.' 

Simultaneous  contrasts  are  seldom  free  from  the  influence 
of  successive.  And  successive  contrasts  are  more  striking 
and  general.  Both  of  these  observations  are  explained  by 
the  fact  that  successive  nerve-stimuhitions  are  more  readily 
distinguished  from  one  anotlier,  and  give  room  for  the  influ- 
ence of  fatigue  from  one  sense-quality  before  the  next  is 
experienced.  That  a  more  unused  function  will  tend  to 
monopolize  consciousness  and  extinguish  a  more  used  func- 
tion— this  may  be  called  the  law  of  nervous  fatigue  as  regards 
contrast. 

Conclusion  on  Sense-qualities.  It  seems  reasonably 
safe  to  conclude  that  there  are  well  specialized  nervous 
functions  which  correspond  to  the  great  difierences  of 
quality  in  sensations  :  this  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  the 
diflferences  are  stable ;  that  the  senses  are  largely  inde- 
pendent of  one  another  in  their  activity ;  that  each  such 
function  has  normal  minimum  and  maximum  activities 
•which  give  original  degrees  of  intensity  in  conscious- 
ness. But  within  these  limitations,  both  qualities  and 
intensities  are  subject  to  the  laAv  of  relativity  as  well  by 
reason  of  nervous  summation  as  of  mental  synthesis." 

Eelation  of  Sensations  to  Knowledge.  Sensations,  in 
the  sense  of  purely  affective  "  moments"  in  conscious- 
ness, seem  to  occupy,  in  view  of  all  that  has  been  said, 
an  anomalous  and,  in  the  main,  fictitious  position.  We 
have  found  that  the  simplest  presentative  aspects  of 
sensation,  space  and  time  ^  arise  from  the  synthesis  of 
apperception.  Differences  of  intensity  (quantity)  and 
quality  then  remained.     But  we  found  also  that  differ- 

'  Pfli'U^'^'''*  Archiv,  xli.  p.  If  and  oGOf;  also  xlvii.  IIefle4  and  5.  A 
brief  cxp(jsition  of  tlic  facls-jind  tlicoricsisf^iven  l)y  Dclaharre  in  James's 
Priiic.  of  I'sych.,  ii.  pp.  lij  f.       bee  al.so  Stujupf,  Toniisycholorjie,  vol.  II. 

'  See  next  paragrajih. 

*  Senses  and  Intellect,  in  locis. 


94  SENSATlOIf  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

ences  in  intensity  were  relative  (Weber's  law),'  i.e.,  that 
intensities  are  not  constant,  but  vary  as  they  are  distin- 
guished from  lower  or  higher  intensities.  We  now  find 
that  qualitative  differences  are  also  relative  (law  of  con- 
trast), i.e.,  that  a  sense-quality  varies  as  it  is  brought  into 
juxtaposition  with  other  sense-qualities.  But  as  distin- 
guishing (differentiation")  is  an  apperceptive  function, 
all  distinctions  whatever  among  sensations,  in  conscious- 
ness, are  due  to  the  synthesis  of  apperception.  So  much 
on  the  side  of  consciousness  of  differences  among  sen- 
sations :  the  reactive  and  voluntary  consciousness. 

But  there  are,  we  find,  differences  of  which  we  are 
not  conscious.  Sensations,  we  saw,  may  be  analyzed 
(sound,  sight,  etc.).  This  we  found  to  take  place  by  the 
breaking  up  of  a  nervous  process  resulting  from  sum- 
mation.' Intensities,  again,  depend  upon  the  relative 
strength  of  stimuli  (Weber's  law)  ;  this  also  was  found  to 
be  due  to  the  compounding  of  nervous  excitations.* 
Further,  sensations  are  subject  to  unconscious  contrasts 
in  quality,  which  is  also  explained  by  nervous  summa- 
tion (Heriug's  experiments).  Hence  there  are  sensations 
arising  from  differences  (summations,  overlappings,  sub- 
tractions, etc.)  among  nervous  processes,  sensations  due 
peculiarly  to  such  complex  processes,  and  not  to  the 
union  of  the  various  sensations  which  the  elements  of 
these  nervous  processes  would  have  severally  produced. 
Such  supposed  sensations  are  not  distinguished  at  all : 
pure  pleasure  and  pain,  if  they  could  be  realized  after 
birth,  would  be  such :  i.e.,  passive  consciousness. 

But  the  latter  we  never  find — except  hypothetically 
in  the  lowest  forms  of  life.  Wherever  we  actually  find 
consciousness  we  find  also  reaction,  and  consequently 
synthesis.     Feelings  are  always  either  feelings  from  or 


'  Senses  and  Intellect,  in  loeis.  *  Ibid. ,  Chap.  IV.  §  2. 

'  Ibid. ,  Chap.  IV.  §  3.  *  Ibid..  Ch:ip.  VII.  §  5. 


SENSATION  AND  KNOWLEDGE,  95 

due  to  (not  of)  external  or  internal  relations,  or  feelings 
of  internal  relations  (emotions).  The  former  are  either 
sensuous  or  ideal,  the  latter  always  ideal.  We  may, 
therefore,  conclude  that  there  is  a  synthetic  element  in 
sensation  itself,  that  thought  is  implicit  in  the  earliest 
reactions  of  consciousness.  And  sensations  considered 
as  atoms,  as  the  materials  given  in  consciousness  to  be 
worked  up,  or  to  work  themselves  up,  do  not  exist :  the 
sensation  is  itself  the  outcome  of  consciousness,  which 
is  a  function,  not  an  empty  theatre  or  a  blank  tablet. 

Feeling  and  knowledge  are,  finally,  only  two  sides  of 
the  original  fundamental  fact,  consciousness,  which  is  a 
dynamic  creative  thing  in  relation  to  its  own  content.  It 
begins  by  creating  blindly,  impulsively,  under  the  lead 
of  cerebral  processes  :  this  is  feeling.  It  ends  by  creat- 
ing with  prevision,  selection,  thought :  this  is  knowl- 
edge. 

To  illustrate :  an  infant's  first  visual  sensations,  say 
of  its  father,  are  already  felt  to  be  different  from  the  mus- 
cular feelings  which  preceded,  these  from  earlier  feel- 
ings, etc.,  back  to  the  beginnings  of  consciousness  itself, 
i.e.,  reaction,  giving  felt  differentiation,  space-relations, 
time,  memory.  He  next  sees  a  stranger,  and  has  besides 
the  father-sensations  again,  other  elements  due  to  differ- 
ences in  the  two  men  :  these  latter  arise  from  relations 
in  consciousness,  but  are  not  of  them.  The  child  does 
not  know  there  are  two  men,  it  only  feels  a  difference. 
Later  the  infant  learns  to  distinguish  the  men,  and  has 
a  new  feeling  of  difference  or  similarity,  which  could 
only  come  after  the  relation  in  consciousness  is  a  con- 
scious act  of  relating,  i.e.,  is  knoivledge. 

The  current  theories  of  the  relation  of  sensation  to 
thought  may  bo  thrown  under  iho  following  heads  : 

1.  Aflirnis  definite  fixed  atomic  sensations,  which  are  the 
material  either  of  association   (associationists,  ilume)  or  of 


96  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

rational  construction  (idealists,  Kant,   Green').     This  is  re- 
futed by  the  phenomena  of  contrast. 

2.  Affirms  that  there  are  no  sensational  atoms,  that 
contrast- phenomena  are  due  to  physiological  summation, 
as  is  also  thought  (Maudsley,  Eibot,  Sergi,  Miinsterberg). 
This  is  refuted  by  facts  of  apperception.  Physiological  sum- 
mation would  simply  give  larger  atoins  in  place  of  thougiit, 
not  intelligent  distinction,  selection,  and  relating  of  elements. 

3.  Denies  atoms,  makes  contrast-phenomena  due  to  sum- 
mation, which  is  accompanied  by  conscious  thought  with 
native  categories  of  objectivity,  space,  etc.  (Hoffding,^  James). 
This  account  forfeits  unity  of  treatment  between  thought 
and  sensation — making  thought  a  relating  process  depending 
upon  sense-material,  but  finding  in  sensation  a  ready-made 
cognition  of  relations  which  cannot  be  further  analyzed.  We 
may  at  once  ask  :  If  sensation  gives  knowledge,  why  does  it 
not  operate  under  the  rubric  of  knowledge,  i.e.,  synthesis  ? 
This  criticism  can  be  avoided  by  grounding  native  cognition 
either  in  inherited  nervous  coordination  (Spencer),  or  in 
formal  apriorism  (Kant)  ;  but  the  first  alternative  denies  the 
synthesis  of  higher  thought  (2.  above),'  the  latter  carries  us 
back  to  atomic  sensations  to  furnish  mateiial  for  a  priori 
forms  (I.  above). 

4.  The  theory  of  the  text  denies  atoms,  affirms  nervous 
summation,  as  demonstrated  by  Hering,  to  account  for  con- 
trast and  general  relativity,  asserts  mental  synthesis  present 
in  all  sensation,  but  at  first  implicit,  felt  only  ;  this  synthesis 
further  becomes  explicit  in  knowledge  and  gives  new  feel- 
ings called  ideal,  intellectual,  etc.'* 

This  is  the  only  theory  which  the  writer  is  able  to 
reconcile  with  the  facts  adduced  by  the  physiologists, 

'  Also,  among  the  physiological  psychologists,  Helmholtz  and 
Stumpf. 

'•^  Outlines  of  Psyctiology,  pp.  113-17.  Hoflding's  position  is  not 
clear.  He  denies  the  distinction  between  sensation  and  thought, 
making  contrast-phenomena  a  matter  of  synthesis  (p.  116).  But  he 
also  finds  nervous  summation  to  be  the  ground  of  contrast  (p.  114). 
These  positions,  in  both  of  which  I  follow  him,  can  be  reconciled  only 
by  making  the  nervous  summation  at  once  tlie  ptiysical  basis  of  an  im- 
plicit thought-syntJiesis. 

^  Miinsterberg,  who  accepts  this  alternative,  brings  the  criticism  of 
duality  of  explanation  against  Wundt.  Beitrage,  Heft  1  ;  Einleitung, 
pp.  43-46. 

*I.e.,  Emotions,  Chaps.  VHI  and  IX. 


SENSATION  AND  KNOWLEDGE.  97 

and  at  tlie  same  time  not  do  ^dolence  to  the  synthesis  of 
thought.  Granted  a  dynamic  interplay  of  energies  in 
the  brain ;  its  function  at  any  time  is  a  resultant  of  ten- 
sions adjusted  relatively  to  one  another  (summation  and 
inhibition).  Granted,  on  the  other  hand,  consciousness 
sedent  in  the  brain ;  its  present  function  is  the  outcome 
of  intensities,  qualities,  etc.,  relatively  adjusted  to  one 
another  in  it.  Now,  if  the  nervous  basis  of  thought  is 
— as  physiology  assures  us — an  advance  over  that  of  sen- 
sation only  in  complexity  of  cerebral  coordination,  then 
we  would  expect  that  thought  would  be  an  advance  over 
sensation  only  in  degree  of  conscious  coordination.  The 
great  assumption  is  made  in  making  consciousness  a 
new  kind  of  coordination  in  the  first  place — in  getting 
space,  time,  quality,  etc.  Why,  when  this  is  done,  demand 
a  new  concession  to  account  for  the  synthesis  of  thought  ? 
The  ultimate  question  is,  therefore,  between  an  apper- 
ceptive and  an  associative — a  cause  and  an  effect — 
theory  of  the  form  of  consciousness  in  relation  to  its 
content.' 

The  function  of  synthesis  or  coordination  in  the 
simplest  presentations  of  the  external  world  is  seen  in 
the  phenomena  of  psychic  blindness  mentioned  above.' 
The  brainless  creature  has  his  sensations,  his  data, 
localized  and  differentiated,  but  has  lost  their  meaning, 
their  connection  with  one  another  and  wdth  himself. 
The  same  in  true  is  cases  of  word-deafness  and  word- 
bliudness — instances  of  psychic  blindness  restricted  to 
one  class  of  sensations.  A  patient  is  often  able  to  see 
a  written  word  and  reproduce  it,  but  is  blind  to  its 
meaning ;  or  he  hears  the  word  and  repeats  it,  but  is 
deaf,  in  turn,  to  its  meaniug.  He  is  obliged  to  learn  its 
coLnotation  and  legitimate  usage,  as  the  child  docs  in 

'  See  the  iidmirubly  clear  way  in  which  Mllnstcrberg  joins  this  issue, 
loc.  cit.,  Einleitung,  especially  pp.  34-40. 
»  Chap.  1.  §  4. 


98  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

the  first  place.  Here  many  of  the  sjmtheses  or  rela- 
tionships which  we  designate  by  the  word  "  meaning " 
have  been  stripped  from  the  sensations  by  brain-dis- 
ease or  accident. 

The  various  factors  involved  in  ordinary  qualitative  sen- 
sations may  be  shown  in  the  following  table— the  process  over 
h  (as  related  to  those  over  a  and  c) : 

Nervous  Integration. 

> 


Consciousness, 
Feeling. 

Knowledge. 


Passive  Consc.      Reactive  Consc       Voluntary  Consc 


Pure  Feeling        Feeling  arising    Feelings    of    Rela- 
(hypothetieal).       from  Relations.       tions,  Emotions. 


f  Distinctions   of   In-        f 
«  j      tensity,    Quality,  .•«  |  Active  Imagi- 
S  J      Space,Time,  Sen-  ."S  J         nation, 
JNone.       •x.S      sation,      Percep-  'Ej  Thought,  Ideal 
J  I      tion.    Memory,  r^  \    Construction. 

l^     Fancy.  L 


a 


Extensity  of  Feeling.  In  enumerating  the  presentative 
properties  of  sensation,  extensity  or  massiveness  was 
distinguished.'  It  is  the  difterence,  for  example,  between 
the  sensation  of  touch  from  one  inch  of  the  skin  and  from 
two,  between  the  immersing  of  one  hand  and  both  in 
water,  etc.  This  feeling  of  volume  in  sensation,  which 
seems  to  attach  to  most  sense-qualities,  was  quoted  in 
that  connection  because  it  seems  to  present  analogies 
with  the  spacial  property.  That  it  is  found  equally  in 
connection  with  spacial  and  non-spacial  senses,'  how- 
ever, seems  to  be  sufficient  proof  that  it  is  not  an  imme- 
diate datum  of  space-knowledge,  as  some*  would  have 
it.  It  is  probable  that  distinctions  of  extensity  are  as 
fundamental  as  those  of  intensity,  and  that  they  are  due 

'  Semes  and  Intellect,  Chap.  VIII.  §  5. 

2  Stumpf  finds  original  extensity  in  sound-tones. 

3  Argued  with  great  ability  and  force  by  Prof essor  James,  Psychology, 
vol.  II.  chap.  XX. 


COMMON  SENSUOUS  FEELING.  99 

to  the  form  of  implicit  synthesis  which  we  have  found 
present  in  all  sensation :  further,  it  is  probable  that 
they  represent  one  of  the  first  reactions  of  conscious- 
ness upon  a  nervous  arrangement  which  has  been  per- 
fected through  former  race  development  and  inheri- 
tance. 

Ward'  points  out  the  fact  that  increase  in  intensity  usu- 
ally carries  increase  in  extensity  with  it.  A  loud  sound  is  a 
large,  voluminous  sound.  Wliile  tliis  is  not  always  true — for 
example,  fine  acute  pains  are  exceptions — yet  at  a  maximum 
intensity  there  is  always  a  feeling  of  an  overflow,  or  bursting 
forth  of  the  energy  of  sensation  beyond  its  province.  When 
we  find  that  this  is  also  true  of  feeling  and  its  expression — 
the  more  intense  the  emotion,  the  more  diffused  and  convul- 
sive its  muscular  reaction — we  are  led  to  look  upon  extensity 
as  an  indistinct  consciousness  of  the  extent,  number,  and 
deo-ree  of  interaction  of  the  nervous  elements  involved  in 
the  sensation  or  emotion  in  question.  We  have  already 
sought  to  explain  the  association  of  sounds  with  colors,  and 
other  similar  anomalies,  by  such  a  possible  interchange  of 
tensions  between  nerve-areas  of  great  ordinary  specialization. 
Thoroughly  in  line  with  this  position  is  Ward's  speculation 
that  one  extensity-feeling  originally  embraced  all  the  par- 
tially differentiated  sense-qualities. 


§  2.  Common  Sensuous  Feeling. 

Common  feeling  has  been  marked  off  as  the  mass  o£ 
mixed  sensibility  which  is  not  included  under  the  great 
classes  of  special  sensations.  It  is  the  fund  or  reserve  of 
our  affective  nature  from  which  the  special  senses  seem 
to  have  sprung.  Apart  from  the  tone  which  all  feeling 
exhibits,  certain  farther  lines  of  division  may  be  drawn 
which  enable  us  to  classify  roughly  the  more  promi- 
nent aspects  of  common  sensuous  feelings.  As  arising 
from  the  general  vital  state  of  the  organism  as  a  whole, 
such  common  feeling  is  called  concesthesis. 


Encyc.  Brituun.,  Psycliolog]/. 


100  SENSATION  AND  COMMON  FEELING. 

Divisions  of  Common  Feeling.'  Sucli  a  division  is 
based  upon  the  physiological  differences  to  which  we 
would  expect  some  conscious  counterpart.  The  great  or- 
ganic processes  of  the  body  go  on  under  the  lead  and  con- 
trol of  automatic  nerve-reactions  ;  a  body  of  nerves  are 
delegated  to  this  post  of  function :  there  are  accordingly 
organic  feelings,  the  subjective  indications  of  organic 
health  or  disease.  Again,  the  periphery  of  the  body  is 
supplied  with  a  mass  of  fibrils  of  incalculable  delicacy 
and  number  which  have  no  representation  in  the  list  of 
special  sensations :  accordingly  a  great  variety  of  more 
or  less  distinct  forms  of  sensibility  seem  to  originate  in 
the  skin  and  are  called  cutaneous  feelings.  Further,  con- 
sciousness of  movement,  the  so-called  motor  conscious- 
ness, is  found  on  examination  not  to  be  simple.  It  in- 
volves an  exceedingly  complex  nervous  apparatus,  both 
central  and  superficial ;  and  all  the  forms  of  sensibility 
which  pertain  to  muscular  movement  may  be  desig- 
nated by  the  general  name  muscular  feelings.  And, 
finally,  the  nervous  elements  are  themselves  endowed 
with  sensibility.  Besides  reporting  the  forms  of  stimu- 
lation which  reach  the  organs  with  which  they  stand  in 
immediate  connection,  the  nerves  report  a  variety  of 
conditions  to  which  they  are  themselves  directly  sensi- 
tive. All  such  modifications  of  sensibility  may  be 
called  nervous  feelings. 

While  not  claiming  for  this  division  any  merits  as  to  final 
accuracy  or  exliaustiveness,  it  seems  to  meet  the  demands  of 
convenience  and  to  cover  the  most  obvious  phenomena^  of 
this  category.  Certain  questions  as  to  further  determination 
will  arise  below,  such  as  the  distinction  of  muscular  from 
cutaneous,  and  electrical  from  nervous  feelings;  but  each  such 
point  of  doubt,  if  it  be  of  sufficient  importance,  can  be  held 
over  for  solution  in  a  more  special  discussion. 

Such   a  division,  it  may  be  further  said,  gives  a  degree 


1 


'See  an  exhaustive  discussion  and  division  hy  l{0Y\7\cz,Viertelja?lr- 
sc7lr^fifur  wiss.  Philosophie,  iv.  3  ;  resumed  by  Sully  in  Mind,  vii.  302. 


J 

"^  ORGANIC  FEELINGS.  101 

both  of  specialization  and  of  differentiation  to  these  phenom- 
ena and  recognizes,  at  least  in  the  raatnre  consciousness,  a 
vague  localization  in  regions  or  organs  of  the  body.  The 
former  is  true  to  an  unexpected  degree  of  some  of  these 
states,  especial!}''  those  called  cutaneous.  Itching  and  tick- 
ling sensations,  for  exam})le,  have  subjectively  as  much  right 
to  be  called  special  as  sensations  of  temperature  have.  The 
quality  of  localization  is  also  quite  plain  in  certain  of  these 
classes,  and  may  grow  in  clearness  with  experience.  The 
conclusion  is  thei'efore  strengthened  that  the  accident  of  a 
known  end-organ  is  not  a  safe  criterion  of  distinction. 

The  normal  condition  of  any  one  of  these  seats  of 
sensibility  may  be  contrasted  with  the  abnormal  con- 
dition, on  the  one  hand,  in  which  the  feeling  peculiar  to 
it  is  absent,  and,  on  the  other,  with  that  in  which  this 
feeling  is  exaggerated  and  intense.  The  former  is  called 
ancesthesia,  and  the  latter  hypercedkesia.  Thus  tactile  or 
muscular  anaesthesia  and  hyperassthesia  are  conditions 
of  the  absence  or  exaggerated  presence,  respectively, 
of  the  feelings  normal  to  the  skin  or  muscles.  The  ab- 
sence of  pain,  also,  in  a  part  where  it  is  present  when  the 
usual  conditions  of  pain  are  realized,  is  called  analgesia. 

I,  Oi'ganic  Feelings.  The  organic  feelings  were  cited 
in  an  earlier  chapter  as  typical  phenomena  of  the  affec- 
tive class.  They  include  any  consciousness  we  may 
have  of  the  massive  internal  organs  of  the  body. 
Digestive,  respiratory,  alimentary,  sexual  feelings, 
whether  they  denote  healthful  or  diseased  conditions, 
may  all  be  put  in  a  single  class.  The  detailed  enumera- 
tion of  the  phases  of  organic  feeling  is  unnecessary. 
Among  the  most  prominent  and  important  of  such  feel- 
ings, however,  we  may  mention  the  organic  needs, 
hunger,  thirst,  air,  sleep,  exercise,  etc,  and  the  large 
class  of  feelings  connected  with  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  and  the  activities  of  glandular  tissue,  such  as 
congestion,  throbbing,  faintness,  etc.     The  pain  accom- 


102  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

panying   these  feelings    is   massive   and   may  be  very 
severe. 

II.  Cutaneous  Peelings.  In  connection  with  the  skin 
an  enormous  variety  of  feelings  are  reported  in  con- 
sciousness. Of  these,  two  general  classes  lay  claim  to 
special  end-apparatus,  sensations  of  touch  and  tem- 
perature. Besides  these,  the  more  definite  feelings  hav- 
ing their  stimulation  in  the  skin  are  those  of  itching, 
scratching,  flesh-crawling,  tickling,  and  feelings  of  the 
sharp,  blunt,  hard,  soft,  rough,  smooth,  coarse,  sticky, 
damp,  dry,  oily,  etc.  Nothing  more  can  be  said  at 
present  of  these  forms  of  sensibility.  They  are  present 
in  greater  or  less  intensity  and  delicacy  wherever  the 
skin  is  normal.  Here  also  a  careful  note  must  be  made 
of  the  presence  of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  that  is,  such  feel- 
ings have  tone. 

III.  Muscular  Feelings.  The  sensuous  feelings  con- 
nected more  nearlj^  or  remotely  with  muscular  activity 
present  characteristics  which  forbid  the  peremptory 
treatment  found  sufficient  for  the  above  classes.  The 
important  philosophical  deductions  found  possible  from 

'  the  ideas  of  force  and  self  make  it  necessary  that  the  sen- 
suous elements  of  these  ideas  be  subjected  to  more  than 
ordinary  scrutiny.  It  was  in  connection  with  muscular 
sensations'  that  these  ideas  were  found  to  take  their  rise, 
and  the  twofold  division  of  such  sensations,  into  feel- 
ings of  resistance  and  feelings  of  effort,  seemed  to  lend 
countenance,  from  the  side  of  the  afi'ective  consciousness, 
to  such  a  genesis  of  these  ideas.  The  validity,  there- 
fore, of  former  positions  hangs  upon  the  results  of  the 
exposition  and  discussion  of  the  muscular  feelings. 

For  tliis  reason  these  feelings  liave  been  included  both 
under  tlie   head  of  special  sensations  and  that  of  common 

'  See  Senses  and  Intellect,  3d  ed.,  pp.  88-92. 


MUSCULAR  FEELING.  103 

feeling.  The  analysis  of* tlie  mass  of  sensibility 'svliicli  bears 
the  name  muscular  feeling  will  show  that  this"^double  allot- 
ment is  just. 

Analysis  of  Muscular  Feeling.  1.  Kincesthetic  Feel- 
ings. Suppose  for  clearness,  in  the  first  instance,  a  case 
of  mechanical  movement.  My  right  arm  is  lifted  swiftly- 
bj  a  friend,  n\\  own  attitude  being  that  of  entire  pas- 
sivity and  non-resistance,  and  when  level  with  the  shoul- 
der, the  elbow,  wrist,  and  fingers,  are  in  succession 
flexed.     What  do  I  feel  ? 

In  the  first  place,  I  have  certain  particular  feelings 
from  the  skin :  the  feeling  of  passage  through  the  air, 
due  mainly  to  a  lowering  of  temperature,  and  the  feel- 
ing of  stretching  where  the  skin  is  tightly  drawn.  The 
flexing  of  the  finger  backwards  brings  out  this  feeling  of 
cuticular  strain.  I  also  experience  sensations  of  touch 
if  the  skin  breaks  contact  or  comes  into  contact  with 
any  external  body,  as  the  clothing  of  the  arm.  In  the 
second  place,  I  have  certain  particular  feelings  from  the 
muscles,  which  are  clear  enough  to  be  easily  distinguished: 
the  feeling  of  contraction  in  the  muscle  itself,  and  feel- 
ings of  pressure  of  the  parts  of  the  organs  against  one 
another,  or  of  a  muscle  against  an  obstruction. 

Besides  these  particular  and  more  or  less  clearly 
localized  feelings,  there  seems  to  be  a  sense  of  where- 
ness  or  massive  locality  of  the  limb  as  a  whole,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  body.  This  feeling  appears  to  be  made  up  of 
elements  of  tension  or  strain  in  the  body  of  the  muscle, 
and  of  similar  strain  in  the  ligaments,  tendons,  and 
esj^ecially  in  the  joints.  In  the  case  supposed,  this 
last  feeling  is  plainly  localized  in  the  shoulder  and 
elbow  joints.'  To  these  must  be  added  the  sensations 
of  muscular  fatigue,  now  demonstrated  by  Maggiore  and 

'  James  makes  these  joint-sensations  of  original  importance  for  the 
notions  of  direction  and  space.     See  his  discussion,  loc.  cit.,  ii.  189  f. 


104  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

Mosso,'  wliicli  follow  the  prolonged  use  of  tlie  same 
muscles. 

Taken  together  these  more  or  less  distinct  kinds  of 
feeling  are  known  as  feelings  of  movement.  The 
expression  is  so  ambiguous,  however,  having  been  ap- 
plied by  some  writer,  perhaps,  to  each  of  the  subordinate 
feelings  in  turn,  that  a  better  name  for  the  class  is  at 
hand  in  the  Greek  equivalent  kincesthetic  feelings.  The 
further  point  of  interest  in  them  is  that  the  nervous 
process  which  reports  them  to  consciousness  is  plainly 
a  sensor  or  afferent  process.  So  far  we  may,  perhaps, 
consider  our  observations  above  dispute. 

This  division,  so  far  reached,  seems  to  the  writer, 
after  considerable  experimental  observation,  to  be  justi- 
fied in  consciousness,  whatever  modifications  of  it  the 
consideration  of  the  physiology  of  the  muscular  sensa- 
tions may  make  necessary.  There  is  some  doubt  as  to 
whether  the  contraction  is  felt  to  be  distinct  from  press- 
ure, and  also  whether  muscular  tension  is  distinct  as  a 
feeling  from  muscular  contraction  and  from  the  feeling 
at  the  joints.  For  the  essential  question  at  issue,  how- 
ever, these  points  are  not  important,  the  main  question 
being  whether  these  sensations  are  distinct  as  a  class 
from  the  class  next  to  be  pointed  out. 

Kinassthetic  Feelings  as  Immediate  or  Remote."  The 
feelings  of  movement  heretofore  described  have  their 
stimuli  in  the  organ  itself  which  makes  the  movement. 
Such  feelings  are  immediate.  On  the  contrary,  such 
movements  may  themselves  serve  to  stimulate  one  or 
other  of  the  special  senses,  giving  a  new  class  of  sensa- 

^  Archiv  fiir  Anat.  U7id  Phys.,  Phys.  Abih.,  1890,  pp.  89,  191.     Cf. 
Lombard,  Ante}-.  Jour.  Psych.,  in.  p.  24. 

^  I  here  adopt,  for  the  sake  of  uniformity,  the  terms  used  by  James 
to  cover  this  distinction,  although  I  think  the  words  direct  and  indirect 
"would  be  more  appropriate. 


KINESTHETIC  FEELINGS.  105 

fions  which  report  the  moYement.  Such  movement-re- 
porting sensations  from  other  senses  are  remote  kinaes- 
thetic  feelings.  For  example,  when  I  move  my  arm 
with  m}'  ej'es  shut  and  in  the  presence  of  noises  which 
prevent  my  hearing  the  rustle  of  my  clothing,  etc.,  my 
sensations  of  movement  are  immediate.  I  now  open  my 
eyes  and  see  the  arm  move  and  listen  closely  and  hear 
it :  the  optical  and  auditory  sensations  now  added  to  my 
consciousness  are  remote  kinjesthetic  feelings. 

It  is  important  to  note  that  our  feelings  of  movement 
are  perhaps  never  free  from  these  contributions  from 
remote  sources.  They  almost  alvrays  enter  in  a  com- 
plete statement  of  the  case.  And,  further,  if  this  be 
true,  we  would  expect  a  very  close  association  between 
immediate  and  remote  feelings  of  movement :  so  close 
that  their  memories  would  be  as  inseparably  blended  as 
the  sensations  themselves.  Consequently,  whenever  we 
have  occasion  to  estimate  the  possible  effects  of  such 
memories  as  affording  or  reinforcing  stimuli  to  move- 
ment, the  presence  or  absence  of  such  remote  feelings 
must  be  carefully  taken  into  account. 

The  nervous  arrangement  which  underlies  this  confluence 
of  immediate  and  remote  feelings  is  only  another  illustration 
of  the  dynamic  unity  of  the  brain  as  a  whole.  The  centres 
for  sight  and  for  arm-movements,  for  example,  or  those  of  hear- 
ing and  of  vocal  movements,  have  connecting  pathways  be- 
tween them.  The  activity  of  one  centre  stimulates  the  other 
directly,  and  both  discharge  into  the  motor  course  with 
which  one  is  immediately  and  the  other  remotely  connected.' 
On  the  other  hand,  instead  of  reinforcing  a  discharge,  a 
remote  sensation  or  memory  may  inhibit  it  altogether.    These 

'  This  is  clearly  illustrated  by  cases  in  wliich  patieuts  are  unable  to 
move  their  limbs  as  long  as  their  eyes  are  closed,  but  can  do  so  when 
they  see  the  limbs.  This  means  that  the  direct  channel  into  the  limb- 
centre  is  blocked,  but  the  indirect  channel  tliroiigh  tlie  visual  centre 
is  still  open.  Writers  who  do  not  accept  sensations  of  innervation  hold 
that  all  voluntary  movements  are  stimulated  by  kinaesthetic  feelings 
either  immediate  or  remote. 


106  SENSATION  AND  COMMON  FEELING. 

two  influences  from  the  same  remote  centre  are  illustrated  in 
the  fact  that  in  reaching  for  objects  the  eye  estimates  the 
distance,  and  leads  to  our  putting  forth  more  effort  to  stretch 
across  it  as  the  object  is  further  removed  ;  but  when  a  cer- 
tain distance  is  reached  the  same  kind  of  estimation  by  the 
eyes  leads  us  to  give  up  the  effort  altogether.  In  one  case  the 
optical  sensations  reinforce  the  stimuli  to  movement,  and  in 
the  other  they  inhibit  the  movement. 

Sequence  of  the  Kinaesthetic  Feelings.  It  follows  from 
the  fact  that  these  feelings  are  afferent  that  they  follow- 
in  time  upon  the  actual  movement,  or  upon  the  elements 
in  it  w^hich  constitute  their  stimuli  respectively.  Unless 
there  be  a  limb  to  move,  or  unless  there  be  sensor 
courses  representing  such  a  limb  and  sensor  centres 
for  the  receipt  of  such  stimuli,  these  feelings  could  not 
be  experienced. 

Furthermore,  what  is  true  of  sensations  in  general 
as  regards  their  possible  reproduction  or  memory  is  true 
of  these  states  of  the  sensibility.  The  special  basis  of 
memory  has  already  been  seen  to  be  identical  with  the 
nervous  conditions  of  the  original  experience.  It  fol- 
lows, therefore,  that  the  brain-centres  which  receive  and 
register  these  kinaesthetic  feelings  are  also  the  seat 
of  kinaesthetic  memories.  From  the  nervous  point  of 
view,  any  form  of  stimulus  which  excites  the  kina?s- 
thetic  centre  or  centres  may  bring  up  images  of  move- 
ment, and  these  images  may,  under  the  conditions  of 
intensity,  escort,  etc.,  which  make  illusion  possible,  be 
mistaken  for  real  movement ;  or  they  may  serve  to  start 
a  brain-process  w^hich  issues  in  a  series  of  real  move- 
ments. What  we  may  call  the  motor  or  stimulus  value 
of  these  sensations  is  accordingly  preserved  in  a  weaker 
degree  in  the  motor  or  stimulus  value  of  their  memo- 
ries. 

2.  Feelings  of  Innervation.     Continuing  the  analysis 
of  the  motor  consciousness  as  it  arises  from  a  particu- 


FEELINGS  OF  INNERVATION.  107 

lar  muscular  reaction,  and  passing  from  mechanical 
to  voluntary  movement,  several  more  va.c;ue  and  iudefin- 
able  elements  maj  be  pointed  out.  First,  there  seems 
to  be  a  consciousness  of  the  state  of  the  motor  ajjparatus 
as  a  whole,  as  capable  or  incapable  of  tlie  movement 
in  question.  It  is  felt  in  the  system  as  a  disposition  or 
indisposition  for  action.  Considered  as  a  state  of  readi- 
ness or  the  contrary,  it  may  be  called  feeling  of  motor 
potential.  It  seems  to  be  plain  in  the  difierent  conscious- 
ness we  have  of  the  right  and  left  arms  respectively. 
Even  when  fresh  from  a  night's  rest,  there  is  a  feeling  to 
a  right-handed  man  of  greater  strength  or  readiness  in 
the  right  arm.  This  is  apparentl}^  preliminary  in  con- 
sciousness to  the  actual  movement  itself. 

Fatigue  takes  on  a  peculiar  character,  also,  when  the 
fatiguing  movement  is  voluntary :  at  least,  such  move- 
ment is  more  fatiguing  than  mechanical  movements.  No 
doubt  in  the  case  of  voluntary  movement  more  nervous 
energy  is  employed.  And  it  seems  equally  clear  that  in 
the  two  kinds  of  movement  the  kina>sthetic  feelings 
remain  about  the  same.  If  these  points  are  true,  we 
must  hold  either  that  all  fatigue  is  nervous,  or  that  there 
are  two  kinds  of  fatigue,  muscular  and  nervous.  This 
last  hypothesis  is  proved  by  the  experiments  of  Mosso,' 
and  also  gathers  support  from  the  feeling  of  intellectual 
fatigue  spoken  of  above,  which  would  have  less  of  the 
muscular  and  more  of  the  nervous  element.^  As  a 
purely  central  or  nervous  feeling,  fatigue  would  fall  in 
the  fourth  class  below. 

The  two  last-mentioned  foelings,  muscular  readiness  and 
fatigue,  are  closely  contrasted  in  consciousness,  and  it  is  pos- 
sible they  have  a  common  nervous  basis.  The  feeling  of 
motor   readiness   may   be   simply   the   consciousness   of   the 

'  Ia)c.  cii. 

*  ;Mosso  proves  that  both  are  present  after  hard  intellectual  work. 
llnd. 


108  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

unfatigued  centre  or  organism.  But  such  a  common  ground 
of  connection  would  not  destroy  the  distinct  character  of  the 
two  sensations,  since  we  feel  ready  for  action  whether  we 
subsequently  induce  fatigue  by  action  or  not :  and  we  feel 
fatigue  after  prolonged  action  whether  we  felt  ready  for 
such  action  beforehand  or  not.  As  far  as  the  element  com- 
mon to  both  is  of  consequence,  it  would  tend  to  suggest  a 
nervous  basis  of  fatigue,  since  the  readiness  to  act  seems  to 
be  iu  a  measure  independent  of  the  muscular  fatigue  which 
is  brought  on  by  mechanical  movement. 

It  is  in  point  to  call  attention  here  also  to  what  may 
be  called  hypothetical  feelmgs  of  expenditure  : '  hypotheti- 
cal, because  it  has  hitherto  baffled  psychologists  to  ab- 
stract the  consciousness  of  the  actual  outgoing  process 
which  this  exj)ression  designates  from  the  mass  of  sen- 
sations already  mentioned,  and  more  especially  from  the 
intellectual  feeling  of  expenditure  which  seems  to  enter 
in  the  act  of  attention.  But,  as  will  appear  later,  the 
same  uncertainty  attaches  to  the  attempt  to  separate  such 
intellectual  feelings  of  expenditure  from  the  other  motor 
phenomena  which  accompanj^  it.  If  analysis  should 
prove  that  there  are  feelings  of  intellectual  expenditure, 
then  we  would  have  in  that  fact  an  analogy  in  favor  of 
feelings  of  physical  expenditure  :  and  the  analogy  would 
hold  also  the  other  way. 

Sequence  of  the  Innervation  Feelings.  From  the  na- 
ture of  each  of  the  so-called  innervation  feelings,  its 
time  of  happening  may  be  determined  in  relation  to  the 
actual  movement.  Feelings  of  readiness  are  present 
with  more  or  less  strength  in  consciousness  before  the 
movement  takes  place ;  feelings  of  fatigue  seem  clearly 
to  follow  upon  continued  muscular  strain.  Yet  if  we  iden- 
tify fatigue  with  unreadiness  for  motor  activity',  it  may  be 
said  to  precede  that  activity  just  as  readiness  does,  both 

'  It  is  to  such  supposed  sensations  arising  from  the  outgo  of  energy 
in  the  motor  courses  that  the  phrase  "innervation  feelings"  is  usually 
applied. 


NERVOUS  FEELINGS.  109 

being  probably  central  feelings.  Feelings  of  expendi- 
ture, again,  would  lie,  to  tlie  unreflecting  observer,  mid- 
way between  readiness  and  fatigue,  and  would  accom- 
pany the  actual  discharge  of  the  motor  elements  into 
the  nerve-courses. 

Beauuis'  analyzes  the  entire  experience  of  a  case  of  mus- 
cular movemeut  into  six  elements,  i.e.,  sense  of  amount  of 
force  necessary,^  of  the  extent,  rapidity,  duration,  direction  of 
movement,  and,  finally,  of  situation.  The  real  nature  and 
physical  basis  of  these  feelings  must  not  be  assumed  under 
cover  of  the  names  given  to  them  by  unreflecting  observa- 
tion. It  is  possible  that  the  above  description  of  conscious- 
ness may  have  to  be  adapted  to  the  results  of  physiological 
experiment  and  pathological  observation.  Nothing  in  con- 
sciousness is  more  deceptive  than  the  order  in  which  its 
events  seem  to  take  place. 

In  addition  to  tliese  sensuous  feelings,  there  are  certain 
other  modifications  of  consciousness  involved  in  voluntary 
movement,  such  as  consent,  effort,  etc.,  already  spoken  of. 
These  are  so  evidently  preceded  by  an  ideal  construction  that 
they  can  properly  be  estimated  only  in  connection  with  phe- 
nomena of  voluntary  movement.' 

IV.  Nervous  Feelings.  Under  this  heading  we  have 
to  consider  the  forms  of  sensibility  shown  by  the  nerves 
themselves :  they  are  in  so  far  strongly  contrasted  with 
the  foregoing  classes,  since  in  the  case  of  the  organic,  cuta- 
neous, and  muscular  feelings,  the  nerve  conducts  the  sen- 
sation from  some  other  organ  or  part  of  the  body.  These 
feelings  may  be  produced  by  various  artificial  experiments 
with  the  nerve-courses,  though  usually — since  only  his 
own  nerves  are  capable  of  reporting  the  necessary  in- 
formation— the  ^psychologist  is  shut  up  to  cases  of  acci- 
dent or  disease  for  light  on  the  subject,  except  as  far  as 
the  treatment  of  the  nerves  may  be  harmless. 

In  the  first  place,  the  nerves  are  capable  of  the  most 
acute   pain.     And  nervous  pain  seems  to   have  a  more 

'  Sensations  internes,  p.  62.  *  CLap.  XV. 

'  Weber's  Kvajtsinn. 


110  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

positive  and,  in  consequence,  more  agonizing  cliaracter 
than  pain  from  other  kinds  of  tissue.  For  the  present, 
however,  the  nature  of  nervous  pain  and  pleasure  may 
be  relegated,  as  before,  to  the  fuller  discussion  of  the 
tone  of  sensibility  below. 

A  variety  of  feelings  arise  from  a  nerve  when  ii  is 
subjected  to  pressure.  If  a  small  band  of  rubber  be 
stretched  around  the  uj^j^er  arm,  these  sensations  are 
brought  into  consciousness:  namely,  a  tingling  in  the 
extremities,  the  peculiar  sense  of  a  limb's  being  "asleep,"" 
and  finally  numbness;  in  this  order,  with  increased  or 
prolonged  duration  of  the  pressure.  These  feelings  are 
often  accompanied  by  insensibility  of  the  skin  and 
muscles.  The  same  class  of  sensations  follow  from 
the  mechanical  stimulus  of  the  nerve-trunks  in  the 
stumps  of  amputated  limbs. 

Another  series  of  feelings  depend  upon  the  condition 
of  the  nervous  system  as  a  whole.  Among  them  may 
be  mentioned  nervous  shock,  exaltation,  and  depression. 
Then  there  are  states  of  nervous  hypersesthesia,  or 
restlessness,  so-called  "  nervousness."  Other  conditions 
bring  on  feelings  of  alarm,  danger,  and  anxiety.  What 
can  express  the  alarm  a  man  feels  when  he  awakes  and 
finds  the  arm  he  has  been  lying  upon  completely  dead 
to  all  feeling  or  control  ?  To  these  massive  nervous 
feelings  is  to  be  attributed  much  that  passes  for  dispo- 
sition and  temperament.  A  very  little  trifling  with  his 
nerves  makes  a  brave  man  cowardly,  and  causes  the 
prudent  man  to  lose  his  self-control.  There  are  inde- 
finable thrills  which  pass  over  the  being  of  the  opium- 
eater,  dejDths  of  feeling-experience  which  the  victims  of 
exciting  drugs  alone  understand.  The  foundations  of 
things  seem  to  be  upheaving  and  all  landmarks  of  feel- 
ing and  knowledge  disappear  in  the  whirl  of  unreality 
and  horrible  darkness,  when  the  surgeon's  knife  grates 
upon  a  nerve. 


NERVOUS  FEELINGS.  Ill 

Further,  electrical  stimulation  of  the  nerves  causes 
another  series  of  feelings,  what  we  may  call  electrical 
feelings:  peculiar  tingling  in  the  organ,  a  knocking 
sensation,  or  longitudinal  feeling  of  collision,  such  as 
the  sensation  in  the  elbows  when  a  mild  electrical 
stimulation  passes  through  the  arms.  Further,  electri- 
cal stimuli  are  capable  of  rapid  summation,  and  give 
rise  to  the  most  excruciating  pains. 

The  analogy  between  nervous  force  and  electricity  is  so 
close,  however,  that  instead  of  producing  a  new  class  of  sen- 
sations, electrical  stimulation  may  be  applied  to  the  different 
centres  to  call  forth  the  peculiar  feelings  which  are  normal 
to  these  centres  respectively.  In  this  way,  many  of  the  feel- 
ings already  mentioned  may  be  artificially  produced. 

The  relations  of  these  various  classes  of  sensuous  com- 
mon feeling  to  one  another  will  be  more  apparent  after  the 
discussion  of  the  pleasure  and  pain  common  to  them  all. 

Physiological  Proof  of  Distinct  Common  Feelings. 
That  these  general  divisions  of  common  sensibility 
have,  at  least  in  part,  a  physiological  differentiation  is 
shown  by  the  possibility  of  destroying  certain  of  them 
without  impairing  others.  Under  progressive  anaemia, 
or  loss  of  blood,  the  following  feelings  are  lost  in  the 
order  named — those  named  subsequently  to  any  par- 
ticular one  remaining  intact  when  that  one  and  those 
named  before  it  are  destroyed — namely :  delicacy  or 
coordination  of  movement,  delicacy  of  touch,  pain,  vol- 
untary movement,  electric  feelings,  muscular  irrita- 
bility.' Genzmer  has  found  that  infants  show  no  pain- 
reflexes  for  some  few  days  after  birth. 

Whatever  other  meaning  this  order  of  extinction  may  im- 
ply, it  indicates  functional  nervous  differences  corresponding 
to  the  different  sensations.  The  view  now  taken  is  opposed 
to  tlie  postulation  of  diiferent  kinds  of  nerve-courses  for  the 
different  feelings:  the  law  of  indifference  of  function  contra- 

'  Richet,  loG.  cit.,  p.  138.     Cf.  also  Foster,  loc.  ciL,  %  C83. 


112  SENSATION  AND   COMMON  FEELING. 

diets  this.  There  must,  therefore,  be  differences  in  the  mo- 
lecular processes  induced  in  the  common  sensor  nerves  by  the 
particular  stimuli  which  are  reacted  upon  by  the  centres  in 
the  form  of  different  kinds  of  feeling.  Tlie  essential  fact 
of  physiological  function,  therefore,  in  each  case,  is  the  spe- 
cific conscious  quality  imparted  to  a  stimulation  at  the  cen- 
tral seat :  a  quality  peculiar  in  its  limitation  to  the  form  of 
stimulation  wliich  excites  that  seat. 

On  sensatio7i  and  common  feeling,  consult  :  references  given 
under  Sensation  in  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  115  ;  James,  loc.  cit., 
vol.  II.  chap,  xvii;  Dewey,  Psychology,  chap,  xv  and  refs.  p.  260 ; 
Eichet,  Recherches  sur  la  Sensibilite ;  (experimental  introduction) 
Sanford,  Amer.  Journ.  Psych.,  iv.  pp.  141  if.;  Wundt,  Phys.  Psych., 
3d  ed.,  I.  p.  496  ;  Maudsley,  Pliys.  of  Mind,  chap,  vi  ;  Galton,  In- 
quiries into  Human  Faculties,  p.  27  f. ;  Beaunis,  Sensations  Internes, 
chap.  I;  (contrast)  Wundt,  Mensche7i  und  Thierseele,  13-15te  Vorles.; 
Hoffding,  Outlines,  V.  A.  and  VI.  A.;  Volkmann,  Lebrbuch,  f?  32- 
45  ;  Lotze,  3Iedicinische  Psychologic,  bk.  ii.  cap.  1  and  2  ;  Sergi, 
Psychologic  Physiologique,  liv.  i.  chaps,  in  and  iv  ;  (development 
of)  Preyer,  Mind  of  the  Child,  part  l.  chaps.  1-7  ;  "VVundt,  Theorie 
der  Sinneswahrnehmung,  pp.  376  f. 

On  the  questions  concerning  muscidar  sensations :  James,  loc. 
cit.,  II,  pp.  493  ff.;  Beaunis,  Sensations  Internes,  chaps,  viii  to  xiv; 
Bastian  and  others.  Brain,  1887  ;  Miinsterberg,  Die  Willenshand- 
lung ;  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  pt.  ii.  chap,  ii  ;  Wundt,  Phys. 
Psych.,  3d  ed.,  i.  pp.  289  ff.  and  397  flf.,  and  Mind,  i.  pp.  161  ff.; 
Fouillee,  Revue  PJiilosophique,  xxviii.  pp.  561  f.;  Mach,  Beitrdge 
zur  Analyse  der  Empfindungen  ;  Lotze,  Medicinische  Psychologie, 
in  loc;  Harless,  Mchte's  Zeitschrift  filr  Philosophic,  Bd.  38  ;  Fer- 
rier.  Functions  of  the  Bi^ain,  2d  ed.,  pp.  382  f. ;  Loeb,  Pfliiger''s 
ArcMv,  XLiv.  p.  1;  Fer6,  Sensation  et  Motive ment ;  Mosso,  Qesetze 
der  Ermildmig ,  Archiv  fur  Anat.  u.  Phys.,  Phys.  Abth.,  1890,  pp. 
89  f. ;  Martins,  Philos.  Stndien,  vi.  2  ;  Goldschneider,  Zeitschrift  f. 
Kii7i.  Medicine,  xvi  (Abstract  Amer.  Journ.  Psych.,  ii.  514)  ; 
Muller  and  Schumann,  Pflilger''s  Archiv,  XLV.  37  ff. ;  Binet,  Revue 
Philosophique,  xxviii.  470  ff.;  Fere,  Revue  Philos.,  xxvii.  37  ff.; 
Herzen  (nervous  fatigue),  Archiv  des  Sciences,  Sept.  1887. 

Further  problems  for  sttidy  : 
Contrast-phenomena  ; 
Muscular  sensations  (devise  experiments)  ; 
Experimental  questions  regarding  sensation. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

In  the  classification  of  sensuous  feeling  above,  an  im- 
portant factor  under  each  head  was  the  tone  value  or 
accompanying  pleasure  or  pain.  This  was  found  so 
universally  present  in  varying  sensuous  conditions  that 
it  was  left  for  more  especial  consideration ;  it  is  there- 
fore not  the  universal  presence  of  pleasure  and  pain  as 
a  characteristic  of  sensibility  that  concerns  us  here,  but 
only  its  character  as  accompanying  and  entering  into 
sensuous  feeling. 

§  1.    Physical  Conditions  of  Pleasuke  and  Pain.* 

General  Conditions  of  Pain.  Before  an  attempt  is 
made  to  report  the  more  general  organic  conditions  of 
hedonic  tone,  the  empirical  cases  of  the  rise  of  such  pleas- 
ure or  pain  should  be  enumerated.  After  that,  per- 
haps, some  general  characteristics  of  all  such  cases  may 
become  apparent  and  serve  to  throw  light  upon  the 
wider  question. 

Phenomena  of  sensuous  pain,  which  may  be  considered 
first,  are  clearly  marked.  The  determination  of  the 
truth  of  each  statement  in  regard  to  its  rise  may  be 
made  the  subject  of  an  immediate  appeal  to  conscious- 
ness. 

1.  Intensity  of  stimulation  is  a  cause  of  pain.  The 
actual  experience  of  such  painful  intensities  in  the  cases 
of  special  sensation  leads  us  to  look  for  it  in  all  forms 

'  For  the  sake  of  economy  of  space,  the  word  toTie  may  be  used  for 
the  expression  "  pleasure  and  pain." 

113 


A_ 


114  SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

of  sensibility.  A  blinding  light  is  painful ;  a  loud  noise 
very  close  to  the  ear,  rapid  friction  of  the  skin,  great 
pressure  upon  the  muscles,  etc.,  all  giv^  rise  to  pain- 
ful tone.  It  is  true,  also,  that  very  strong  tastes  and 
decided  odors  are  disagreeable  or  soon  become  so  :  but 
the  case  of  these  sensations  seems  to  differ  in  some 
respect  from  that  of  the  senses  which  report  acute  pain, 
properly  so  called.  Sensations  of  temperature,  again, 
either  heat  or  cold,  give  us  positive  pain  when  the 
degree  of  either  stimulus  is  very  intense.  It  is  possible 
that  the  apparent  difference  between  taste  and  smell  and 
the  other  sensations,  in  this  respect,  may  be  due  to  the 
fact  that  in  them  the  end-organ  seems  to  have  a  chemi- 
cal function,  while  the  other  end-organs  are  simply 
mechanical.  But  it  is  enough  here  to  point  out  the 
fact  that  some  tastes  and  odors  are  always  disagree- 
able, however  slight  the  stimulation  be,  and  that  others 
seem  to  be  always  pleasurable,  however  intense  the 
stimulation.  Bitter  tastes,  for  example,  are  always 
normally  disagreeable,  and  sweet  tastes  normally  agree- 
able. 

2.  Inflammation.  The  same  painful  effects  follow 
ordinary  degrees  of  stimulation  when  an  organ  is  in  an 
inflamed  condition.  Irritation  is  painful  when  the  skin, 
for  example,  is  stretched  or  distended.  In  diseased 
conditions  of  the  eye  the  slightest  degree  of  light  may 
be  painful. 

The  same  is  true  also  of  the  nerves  themselves.  In- 
flammation may  extend  to  the  nervous  tissue  :  it  is  then 
sensitive  to  slight  degrees  of  stimulation,  and  the  reac- 
tion is  painful.  This  painful  tone  is  present  often  under 
intensities  of  stimulation  to  which  the  nerve  is  not  ordi- 
narily sensitive.  The  general  fact  of  this  paragraph  is 
expressed  by  saj'ing  that  a  condition  of  sensor  or  motor 
hypersesthesia  extends  also  to  the  painful  element  in 
sensibility.     It  may  also  be  added  that  the  02:)posite  is 


CONDITIONS  OF  PAIN.  115 

not  alwaj^s  true,  but  may  be :  namely,  tliat  sensuous 
auiestbesia  extends  to  the  painful  element  in  sensi- 
bility. In  other  words,  tactile  or  muscular  anaesthesia 
is  not  ahvays  accompanied  by  analgesia. 

3.  Summation  of  Stimuli.  A  j)ainful  reaction  may  be 
brought  about  by  the  summation  of  stimuli  themselves 
not  painful.  Several  electric  sparks  in  succession  are 
painful,  where  one  is  not.  This  is  probably  only  a  fur- 
ther application  of  the  fact  that  high  intensities  are 
painful.  It  is  given  a  separate  place,  however,  since 
here  the  high  intensity  does  not  become  so  until  it 
reaches  the  centre,  while  in  cases  of  intense  stimula- 
tion the  intensity  is  such  at  the  point  of  application  on 
the  periphery. 

4.  Appetites  or  Impulses  ivhen  denied  give  rise  to 
pains  of  want.  Such  pains  are  usually  periodical,  and 
indicate  a  lack  injurious  to  the  organism.  ^ 

Less  General  Conditions.  Besides  the  above,  several 
more  special  conditions  bring  about  a  painful  reaction 
in  some  one  or  more  of  the  various  divisions  of  feeling. 
Exposure  to  air  is  a  cause  of  pain  to  tissue  normally 
protected  by  the  skin  ;  disuse,  or  too  slight  stimula- 
tion, occasions  pain  in  the  more  complex  of  the  special 
senses,  as  sight ;  lack  of  accommodation  of  the  organ 
to  its  stimulus  has  sometimes  disagreeable  tone,  which, 
is  exaggerated  when  the  stimulation  is  intermittent. 
The  tone  of  the  organic  feelings  seems  to  arise  from  any 
obstruction  of  the  organic  functions,  such  as  laceration, 
cramp,  repletion,  etc.  Intermittence  of  stimulation  i^ 
also  a  frequent  cause  of  pain,  probably  from  the  failure 
of  the  organ  to  accommodate  to  the  broken  stimulus. 

Empirical  Facts  concerning  Pain.  There  are,  in  addi- 
tion, certain  facts  brought  out  by  physiologists  which 
throw  light   upon   pleasure  and   pain.      First  may  be 


116  8EWSU0US  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

mentioned  the  intermiUeifwe  of  pain:  the  greater  and  less 
intensity  of  painful  feelings  at  successive  moments,  the 
stimulus  remaining  constant.  It  is  plainly  seen  in  elec- 
trical stimulation — a  clear  rhythm,  or  rise  and  fall, 
of  the  painful  tone.  A  headache  usually  proceeds  by 
throbs,  a  toothache  by  jumps,  and  a  felon  on  the  finger 
changes  its  feeling  from  a  dull  ache  to  a  paroxysm  of 
overpowering  severity.  That  it  is  due  to  nervous  causes, 
and  indicates  the  ebb  and  flow  of  central  processes,  is 
claimed  from  such  phenomena  in  intermittent  fever ; 
but  in  some  cases  it  evidently  depends  upon  the  rhythm 
of  the  vascular  system,  the  distension  and  reaction  of 
the  blood  vessels. 

Another  kind  of  intermittence  is  brought  about  by 
the  coming  and  going  of  the  attention.  The  effect  of 
the  attention  in  increasing  the  intensity  of  affective 
states  is  familiar ;  hence  we  v/ould  expect  that  the  con- 
centration and  withdrawal  of  the  attention  would  have 
a  marked  influence  upon  the  rise  and  fall  of  pain. 
Further,  w^e  know  that  the  attention,  even  v/hen  concen- 
trated as  steadily  as  possible,  is  rhythmical  :  so  here 
appears  a  further  possible  explanation  of  the  intermit- 
tence spoken  of.' 

As  to  which  is  ultimate,  the  rhythm  of  the  nervous  system 
or  that  of  the  attention,  it  is  not  in  point  to  inquire.  No 
doubt  they  rise  together  and  influence  each  other.  The  very 
intimate  connection  between  the  vivid  presence  of  a  painful 
state  under  attention  and  the  imagination  of  the  same,  comes 
out  in  the  hypnotic  sleep  :  a  mere  suggestion  of  a  certain 
physical  pain  throws  the  patient  into  untold  agony  as  real  as 
any  pain  could  well  be;  and  a  counter-suggestion  removes  it. 

Another  interesting  fact  of  painful  feeling  is  what  is 
called  its  irradiation  or  diffusion.      The   locality  of   a 

>  On  the  periodicity  of  feeling,  see  Ladd,  Physiological  Psychology, 
p.  508,  and  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  pp.  43,  43. 


CONDITIONS  OF  PAIN.  117 

painful  stimnlus  is  less  circumscribed  as  tlie  stimulation 
becomes  intense.  Besides  the  intensity,  or  quantity, 
feeling  takes  on  a  massive  or  spread-out  quality.  It  is 
probably  due  to  a  real  spreading  of  tlie  cause  of  the 
painful  feeling  over  a  greater  area,  both  on  the  periphery 
and  in  the  central  seat. 

Again,  we  may  note  a  delay  in  the  conscious  aware- 
ness of  pain  compared  with  the  aj)pearance  of  the  feel- 
ing whose  tone  it  is.  Even  when  the  stimulation  is  a 
very  strong  one,  the  feeling  is  clear  in  consciousness 
before  any  pain  is  felt.  A  bloAv,  for  example,  is  felt  as 
contact  or  pressure  a  fraction  of  a  second  before  we 
begin  to  suffer  from  it :  a  burn  is  ^particularly  long  in 
reporting  itself  as  pain.  This  is  probably  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  full  force  of  the  stimulus  is  not  reported 
at  once,  but  that  the  organ  accommodates  itself  to  it  by 
a  series  of  partial  transmissions.  These  transmissions 
are  summated  at  the  centre,  and  the  result  is  a  suffi- 
ciently intense  central  stimulus  to  occasion  a  painful 
reaction.  This  delay  may  be  measured  by  comparing 
the  reaction  time  of  a  painful  stimulus — say  the  decided 
prick  of  a  pin — with  that  of  a  simple  contact  sensation 
at  the  same  point  on  the  skin.' 

Further,  the  duration,  or  lasting  quality,  of  a  painful 
state  of  sensibility  is  remarkable.  Pains  do  not  pass 
away,  as  painless  sensations  do,  when  the  stimulation 
ceases.  The  recovery  of  the  organism  is  very  slow. 
What  is  called  an  after-image  of  some  sensations  seems 
here  to  be  more  truly  an  after-/ac^.  It  is  probably 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  intenser  degree  of  stimulation 
necessary  to  pain  gives  more  decided  and  lasting  char- 
acter to  the  nervous  change  it  works  than  feeble  stimuli 
do.  This  is  supported  by  the  observation  that  pains  are 
more  distinctly  and  easily  revivable  than  other  repre- 

'  See  Fuuke,  Hermann's  Uandbuch  der  Physiologie,  iii.  2,  pp.  298-300. 


118  SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

sentations.  A  painful  experience  seems  to  hover  con- 
stantly around  us,  and  thrust  its  unwelcome  presence 
into  our  gayest  hours.  When  we  remember  that  a 
revived  image  occupies  the  seat  of  the  original  expe- 
rience, we  only  have  to  assume  a  more  lasting  effect  to 
have  resulted  from  a  painful  sensation,  to  account  for  its 
more  easy  reproduction. 

Finally,  pain  lowers  the  temperature  of  the  painful 
region.' 

Conditions  of  Analgesia.  Insensibility  to  pain  under 
conditions  usually  painful  may  be  brought  about  by 
various  agencies.  Cold  of  very  great  intensity  has  this 
effect,  pain  becoming  very  acute  and  then  subsiding 
altogether,  as  the  temperature  is  lowered.  The  with- 
drawal of  blood  from  an  organ  makes  it  insensible  to 
pain.  Lowered  sensitiveness  to  pain,  however,  is  always 
preceded  by  exalted  sensitiveness,  as  in  the  evident  case 
of  cold.  Apparent  absence  of  pain  is  experienced 
when  the  intensity  of  a  painful  stimulus  is  suddenly 
lowered,  even  though  the  second  intensity  would  be 
painful  under  other  circumstances. 

Pain  as  Feeling  and  as  Tone.  The  conditions  of  pain 
now  pointed  out  are  conditions  in  the  operation  of  the 
various  modes  of  sensibility,  general  or  special :  that  is, 
we  have  been  observing  pain  as  tone.  The  important 
question  arises :  Is  pain  always  thus  dependent  on  a 
definite  form  of  sensibility,  or  is  it  itself,  as  a  form  of 
sensibility,  ever  found  independent  of  its  presence  as 
tone  ?  There  are  some  facts  which  lead  us  to  believe 
that  pain  has  a  functional  independence,  whatever  w^e 
may  say  as  to  its  anatomical '  or  psychological  indepen- 

'  Mantagazza. 

^  I.e.,  whether  there  are  special  nerve-fibres  which  conduct  pain,  a 
point  on  wliich  experimental  results  are  conflicting.  See  Ladd's  cita- 
tions, Phys.  Psych.,  pp.  125-127o 


CONDITIONS  OF  PLEASURE.  119 

dence.  For  instance,  pain  may  be  destroyed  witlioiit 
impairing  any  of  the  other  sensibilities,  as  in  analgesia 
brought  on  by  chloroform  :  and  in  general,  under  the 
influence  of  ana3sthetics,  pain  and  memory  disajapear 
lirst  and  together.  On  the  other  hand,  other  sensations 
may  be  destroyed  while  the  painful  quality  of  their 
stimuli  remains.  Thus,  under  pressure,  sensations  of 
touch,  temperature,  and  muscular  movement  may  be 
destroyed  while  pain  remains.  So,  also,  under  loss  of 
blood  in  a  member,  sensations  of  touch  disappear  before 
pain,  and  both  before  temperature,  electric  feelings,  etc., 
as  has  been  pointed  out  above.  In  other  words,  the 
various  elements  of  common  sensuous  feeling  may  be 
paralyzed  separately. 

The  inference  is  that  pain  has  a  functional  nervous  basis 
in  some  way  different  from  the  basis  of  the  sensuous  feelings: 
but  not  necessarily  that  pain  as  tone  is  different  from  pain  as 
feeling.  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  liold  the  latter  unless  we 
find  it  impossible  to  bring  both  under  some  common  concep- 
tion. It  is  in  place  below  to  inquire  whether  we  may  arrive 
at  any  such  single  conception  of  sensuous  pain,  which  will 
explain  all  the  more  important  facts  mentioned. 

Physical  Conditions  of  Pleasure.  In  the  case  of  sen- 
suous ])lea3ure  it  is  not  as  easy  to  jjoint  out  its  physi- 
cal conditions ;  but  in  general  we  find  them  opposed  to 
those  already  indicated  as  carrying  painful  tone. 

1.  Moderate  Stimulation  is  pleasurable.  This  is 
readily  seen  in  the  exercise  of  the  special  sense  func- 
tions :  the  eye  is  pleased  with  mild  colors,  and  the  ear 
with  pure  tones.  Gentle  touch,  quiet  muscular  reaction, 
moderate  tastes,  are  usually  agreeable. 

There  are  striking  exceptions,  however,  to  this  rule.  A 
great  many  sensations  are  always  painful;  when  not  giving  a 
painful  reaction,  the  organs  involved  do  not  aft'ect  conscious- 
ness at  all.  So  the  organic  feelings,  ('ertain  tastes  and 
odors,  also,  are  always  disagrecaljh;.  Fnrther,  sensuous  pleas- 
ure, as  depending  upon  moderate  stimuli,  seems  often  to  be 


120  SEWSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN: 

no  positive  addition  to  the  quality  of  the  sensation  in  question. 
Sight,  for  example,  under  moderate  light,  seems  to  contribute 
no  distinct  element  of  pleasure,  apart  from  the  pleasure  that 
accompanies  the  higher  emotions  which  the  object  seen  calls 
out.  This  negative  side  of  sensuous  pleasure  will  be  adverted 
to  again. 

2.  Pleasure  arises  from  the  Adjustment  of  aw  Organ  to 
its  Stimulus.  Muscular  sensations  are  pleasurable  within 
the  range  of  easy  effort.  Stimuli  of  longer  duration, 
which  give  time  for  the  full  adjustment  of  the  organ, 
pass  from  the  painful  to  the  pleasurable.  Feelings  for 
which  we  are  ready  by  anticipation  are  enjoyable.  Yet 
this  is  also  subject  to  the  qualification  that  perfect 
adjustment  seems  in  many  cases  (eye  and  ear)  to  have 
no  feeling  accompaniment  whatever,  either  of  pleasure 
or  pain. 

3.  Activity  is  enjoyable.  By  this  is  meant  function 
within  the  limits  set  by  the  two  conditions  already  men- 
tioned. If  acti-s-ity  is  pleasurable,  it  is  the  moderate 
activity  of  a  w^ell-adjusted  organ.  Yet  there  seem  to 
be  more  massive  organic  conditions  of  activity  which 
are  pleasurable,  even  when  such  a  general  function  in- 
volves some  particular  pain.  The  football-player  enjoys 
Ills  sport,  even  though  he  is  never  free  from  the  pain  of 
bruises  or  scratches.  In  such  cases,  the  vigor  and 
energy  of  the  larger  organs  brought  into  play  seem  to 
overpower  the  protests  of  the  smaller,  and  silence  their 
complaints.  A  pain  which  would  make  one  wretched  if 
suffered  in  passive  silence  is  forgotten  altogether  in  the 
pleasure  of  diligent  employment.  This  larger  activity, 
however,  w^hich  brings  pleasure,  must  itself  conform  to 
the  conditions  of  moderation  and  adjustment. 

Moreover,  these  pleasures  of  activity,  such  as  pleas- 
ures of  the  chase,  of  sports,  of  general  vigor,  are  more 
positive  apparently  than  any  other  sensuous  pleasures. 
The  claim  already  noticed,  that  in  the  absence  of  pain 


THEIR  RELATIVITY.  121 

many  states  are  not  really  pleasurable,  but  merely  neu- 
tral as  regards  tone,  does  not  seem  to  be  well  taken  in 
this  case.  A  condition  of  fresh  muscular  vigor  seems 
to  intrude  itself  into  consciousness  of  its  own  force,  and 
we  become  aware  of  pleasant  occupation  with  no  evident 
reference  to  the  corresponding  state  of  pain.  Indeed, 
the  opposite  pleasures  which  result  from  a  cessation  of 
muscular  pain — the  so-called  pleasures  of  rest — are 
something  quite  distinct  from  these  pleasures  of  activity. 

We  seem  to  have  a  series  of  tone  values  in  cases  of  mus- 
cular exercise  which  is  adjusted  to  the  capacities  of  the  sys- 
tem :  first,  pleasures  of  activity,  then  pains  of  fatigue,  then 
pleasures  again  of  rest.  The  last  are  perhaps  open  to  the 
construction  given  tliem  by  the  negative  theory  ;  but  the  first, 
the  feelings  of  activity,  seem  to  involve  no  cessation  of  pain 
of  any  kind. 

Under  this  head,  also,  as  including  any  function,  and 
not  simply  muscular  activity,  the  pleasures  arising  from 
the  gratification  of  the  organic  appetites  and  instincts 
appear  to  fall.  The}'  are  functions  of  periodical  exer- 
cise, and  their  normal  working  involves  periodical  stimu- 
lation. They  seem  to  involve  pleasure  over  and  above 
the  prompting  of  painful  appetite  :  though  this  again  is 
in  dispute.  It  could  hardly  be  said  that  all  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  table  are  due  to  the  cessation  of  the  pangs 
of  hunger. 

Relativity  of  Sensuous  Pleasure  and  Pain.  The  fact 
referred  to  above,  that  many  ph3'sical  pleasures  are  only 
relief  from  preceding  states  of  pain,  finds  place  with 
other  similar  phenomena,  under  the  law  of  relativity. 
First,  we  may  say  that  the  existence  of  either  state  may 
under  certain  circumstances  arise  from  the  cessation  of 
the  other.  Cases  of  seeming  pleasure,  which  is  ex- 
plained as  absence  of  pain,  have  already  been  men- 
tioned.    Similarly,  the  cessation  of  an  active  pleasure 


122  SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

may  give  us  temporary  pain  and  be  the  only  cause  of 
it.  An  element  of  higher  emotion,  however,  generally 
enters  in  this  case.  Again,  the  intensity  of  pain  or 
pleasure  depends  largely  upon  its  contrast  with  a  pre- 
ceding state.  After  an  unusual  trip  to  the  country,  the 
painful  toil  of  city  life  is  all  the  harder  to  bear  :  so,  after 
feasting  the  ej^es  upon  a  dish  of  luscious  fruit,  the  beg- 
gar's plate  of  herbs  is  all  the  more  unpalatable.  So, 
also,  the  associations  involved  often  convert  pleasure  into 
pain,  and  the  contrary.  A  little  clever  deceit  will  make 
us  enjoy  a  dish  which  before  we  found  unpleasant.' 

While  the  law  of  relativity  undoubtedly  holds  to  a  limited 
degree  of  sensuous  tone,  yet  its  application  is  much  more 
contracted  than  in  the  case  of  liigher  pleasure  and  pain. 
In  almost  all  the  examples  given  of  sensuous  relativity,  an 
element  of  ideal  or  imaginative  feeling  enters.  The  full 
force  of  the  principle,  therefore,  can  be  shown  better  in  a 
later  connection.'^ 

§2.  Resulting  Conception  of  Sensuous  Pleasure  and 

Pain. 

From  the  foregoing  brief  description  of  the  condi- 
tions under  which  sensuous  tone  arises,  we  may  put  all 
such  feelings  under  two  larger  physical  categories.  A 
careful  examination  of  these  conditions  will  show  that 
all  pleasures  and  pains  involve  either  a  state  of  change 
in  the  organic  tissue,  in  the  way  of  integration  or  disin- 
tegration, or  a  change  in  the  relation  of  the  organism 
to  its  environment,  in  the  way  of  adjustment  or  misad- 
justment.  These  two  aspects  of  the  case  may  be  con- 
sidered separately. 

Pleasure  and  Pain  as  resulting  from  Integration  and 
Disintegration.     Considering  pain  from  the  side  of  the 

'  On  the  relativity  of  feeling  in  general,  see  Dumont,  Theorie  Scien- 
tifique  de  la  Sensibilite,  p.  78. 

«  See  Chap.  X.  §  i,  and  Chap.  XI.  §  4. 


RESULTING   CONCEPTION.  123 

organism,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  all  the  pains  of  the 
body  are  due  to  disintegration  of  tissue,  except  those 
cases  in  which  any  amount  of  stimulation  seems  to 
result  in  unpleasant  tone,  such  as  tastes  always  un- 
pleasant. That  is,  very  intense  stimuli  are  known  to 
injure,  tear,  wound  the  organ  stimulated :  stimuli  sum- 
mated  to  a  painful  degree  have  the  same  effects.  The 
cases  of  stimuli  which  are  always  painful  may  be 
brought  under  the  same  category  if  we  find  it  possible 
to  view  the  response  itself  as  a  sign  of  such  disintegra- 
tion :  a  position  which  the  chemistry  of  tastes  and 
smells  at  least  does  not  dispute.  Bitter  tastes,  for 
example,  we  may  well  consider  as  resulting  from  a 
stimulus  damaging  to  the  taste  apparatus :  so  with 
strong  acids. 

Yet  we  cannot  say  that  all  disintegration  is  pain- 
ful, for  the  moderate  stimulation  which  usually  gives 
pleasure  is  also  moderate  disintegration.  An}-  stimula- 
tion whatever  involves  expenditure ;  such  expenditure 
means  the  liberation  of  energy  before  stored  up,  and 
this  using  up  of  energy  is  work  done  in  the  tissues. 
Hence  we  are  obliged  to  say  that  under  some  conditions, 
at  least,  disintegration  is  pleasurable  :  so  the  pleasure 
of  exercise. 

On  the  other  hand,  integration  is  sometimes  pleasur- 
able, as  in  the  case  of  pleasures  of  rest ;  but  integra- 
tion is  sometimes  painful,  as  in  the  pains  of  inactivity 
and  disuse.     What,  then,  shall  we  say  ? 

The  state  of  the  case  seems  to  be  about  this :  the 
life-process  is  a  process  both  of  integration  and  of  disin- 
tegration :  the  organism  is  built  up,  but  is  built  up  l)y 
exercise.  Expenditure  is  the  law  of  acquisition.  On 
the  other  hand,  disintegration  may  overstep  the  legiti- 
mate expenditure  of  the  life-process ;  and  integration 
may  be  too  continuous  to  permit  the  proper  expenditure 
demanded  for  the  life-process. 


124  SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

If,  now,  we  consider  pleasure  and  the  absence  of  pain 
the  accompaniments  of  the  normal  life-process,  and 
pain  the  accompaniment  of  any  organic  event  which 
interferes  with  the  life-process  or  checks  it,  we  seem  to 
have  a  consistent  conception ;  it  explains  the  facts,  as 
far  as  integration  and  disintegration  are  concerned. 

Certain  instances  of  pleasurable  stimuli  which  have  an 
ultimate  damaging  effect  are  urged  in  opposition  to  this 
theory  :  for  example,  deadly  poisons  are  often  sweet  to  the 
taste;  food  is  relished  after  hunger  is  satisfied  and  when  fur- 
ther indulgence  is  harmful.  Such  cases  admit  of  ready  ex- 
planation, however,  when  we  remember  that  the  differentia- 
tion of  function  in  the  nervous  system  has  resulted  in  divi- 
sions in  structure  to  such  an  extent  that  damage  or  benefit 
to  one  organ  is  not  realized  at  once,  or  perhaps  directly  at  all, 
in  others.  Hence  what  is  pleasant  may  be  beneficial  or  stim- 
ulating to  the  immediate  organ  affected,  and  at  the  same 
time  prove  injurious  to  the  whole,  when  its  influence  is  suffi- 
ciently spread.' 

Pleasure  and  Pain  resulting  from  Adjustments  and 
Misadjustments.  It  has  already  been  made  evident  that 
integration  as  an  organic  process  would  not  include  all 
the  phenomena  of  pleasant  or  unpleasant  tone.  A 
variety  of  cases  point  to  the  relative  adjustment  of  the 
organism  to  its  stimulating  environment  as  a  principle 
of  perhaps  equal  importance.  Wherever  such  misad- 
justment  is  so  overpowering  as  to  affect  the  tissue  of  the 
organ  in  question,  the  resulting  pain  comes  clearly 
under  the  principle  of  disintegration  ;  but  when  such 
positive  effects  are  not  clearly  present,  the  fact  of  mis- 
adjustment  is  yet  sufficient  to  cause  pain.  Such  is  the 
disagreeable  quality  of  musical  discords,  glaring  colors, 
unaccustomed  muscular  movements,  etc. 

Wherever,  therefore,  there  is  conscious  feeling  at  all 
attaching  to  the  adjustment  of  a  sense  organ,  we  may 

'  Cf.  Grant  Allen,  Physiological  ^Esthetics,  chap,  ii :  the  fact  was 
long  ago  explained  by  Jessen,  Versuch  iiber  Psychologie,  p.  271. 


RESULTING   CONCEPTION.  125 

say  that  adjustment  is  pleasurable  and  misadjustment 
painful. 

This  principle  might  be  expected  to  follow  from  and  sup- 
plement that  of  integration  :  the  conception  of  pleasure  and 
pain  as  factors  in  organic  development  would  lead  to  such  a 
twofold  view.  If  the  nervous  system  is  to  develop  in  pro- 
gressive adaptation  to  a  widening  environment,  and  if  this 
progression  is  to  be  accomplished  by  a  series  of  integrations 
■within  the  system,  then,  in  the  forms  where  consciousness  is 
discovered,  some  conscious  value  should  attach  to  states  of 
profit  or  damage  in  both  members  of  this  couple.  Adjust- 
ment and  integration  should  be  of  conscious  value,  i.e.,  pleas- 
urable :  misadjustment  and  disintegration  should  be  con- 
sciously avoided  as  harmful,  i.e.,  as  painful.  So  tone  becomes 
tlie  element  of  conscious  life-conservation  in  both  aspects  of 
nervous  function. 

Accordingly  we  are  thrown  back  again  upon  the  re- 
quirements of  the  life-process.  The  adjustment  element 
seems  subordinate  to  a  degree,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
tone,  to  the  integration  element.  Too  much  integration, 
for  example,  becomes  painful  and  compels  new  adjust- 
ments. After  being  shut  up  in  the  house  all  day  I  am 
forced  to  adjust  myself  to  the  storm  outside  ;  the  pain 
of  denying  the  demands  of  the  organism  overbalances  the 
discomfort  of  gettiug  wet.  But  this  widening  of  adjust- 
ments then  passes  from  the  painful  to  the  pleasurable  : 
my  daily  walk  becomes  a  pleasure  to  me  even  in  the 
worst  days  of  the  year.  And  the  same  is  true  when 
changes  in  environment  tax  the  vitality  of  the  organism. 
Pain  of  misadjustment  gradually  yields  to  the  adaptive 
integration  of  the  centres,  and  we  become  "  acclimated," 
"  acquire  a  second  nature,"  etc.  Of  these  two  factors  in 
pleasure  and  pain,  the  integration  factor  corresponds  to 
the  central  function  of  the  nervous  system,  and  the  ad- 
justment factor  to  the  receiving  and  reacting  function, 
as  this  distinction  has  already  been  pointed  out. 


126  SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

General  Conclusion  on  Sensuous  Pleasure  and  Pain. 
It  now  becomes  evident  that  in  the  life-process  we  have 
the  raison  d'etre  of  pleasure  and  pain.  But  by  life-pro- 
cess we  must  be  careful  to  include  life-development  as 
well  as  simple  life.  The  simple  present  life  of  an  organ- 
ism as  constant  function  is  more  than  covered  by  the 
facts  as  we  have  observed  them  :  pleasure  and  pain  have 
a  prospective  future  reference  as  well — reference  to  a 
fuller  development  and  potential  growth.  Accordingly, 
sensuous  pleasure  may  be  defined  as  tlie  conscious  effect 
of  that  ivMch  makes  for  the  continuance  of  the  bodily  life  or 
its  advancement ;  and  sensuous  pain,  the  conscious  effect  of 
that  lohich  makes  for  the  decline  of  the  bodily  life  or  its  lim- 
itation. 

Interpretation  of  Relativity.  The  relativity  of  pleas- 
sure  and  pain,  therefore,  is  a  relativity  in  the  long  run. 
Pleasure  is  the  cessation  of  pain  in  the  sense  that  a  state 
pleasurable  on  the  whole  is  a  state  of  better  or  better- 
adjusted  function  by  reason  of  the  pains  already  experi- 
enced. So  pain  is  a  cessation  of  pleasure  "  in  the  sense 
that  a  state  on  the  whole  j^ainful  is  in  some  respect  a 
state  of  worse  or  worse-adjusted  function  by  reason  of 
earlier  pleasant  states. 

But  absoluteness  must  also  be  true  in  the  sense  that 
single  pleasures  and  pains  must  be  what  they  are  in  the 
present  state  of  the  organism.  Many  painful  states  are 
painful  independently  of  the  pleasurable  states  at 
present  possible,  and  pleasurable  states  are  pleasurable 
independently  of  possible  painful  states. 

The  defiuiteness  of  pain  exceeds  that  of  pleasure, 
however,  as  regards  both  the  physical  process  and  the 
form  it  takes  in  consciousness.  Painful  states  have  an 
acuteness  or  pang  that  forces  itself  upon  us  :  while 
pleasures  are  more  diffused,  general,  and  unremarked. 

'  So  Renouvier. 


THEORIES.  127 

Pains,  for  tlie  same  reason,  are  more  easily  and  strongly 
reproduced,  as  appears  more  forcibly  in  tlie  case  of  ideal 
feeling,  considered  below. 

The  further  justification  of  this  theory  follows  from  the 
examination  of  other  and  older  theories,  the  claim  being  that 
they  all  have  due  recognition  in  this  formula.  It  is  remark- 
able how  slightly  theorists  have  differed  on  the  subject  after 
all,  in  sjiite  of  their  antagonisms  and  jealousies,  and  how  easy 
it  appears  to  throw  the  different  aspects  of  the  case  under  a 
broader  conception. 


§  3.  Theories  of  Seksuous  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

Among  the  various  theories  of  the  nature  of  sensuous 
pleasure  and  pain,  three  great  classes  may  be  mentioned 
according  to  their  recognition  of  one  or  other  or  both  of 
the  elements  pointed  out.  That  is,  some  theorists  make 
the  organic  (or  mental ')  integration  factor  the  essen- 
tial one,  and  neglect  the  adjustment  or  evolution  aspect 
of  the  case  :  this  we  may  call  the  static  or  absolute  concep- 
tion. Others  go  to  an  extreme  in  their  estimation  of  the 
relativity  of  tone,  and  of  feeling  generally  ;  losing  sight 
of  the  constant  aspect  which  has  its  basis  in  funda- 
mental elements  of  structure — structure  to  which  adjust- 
ments must  be  held  subservient,  as  has  been  seen  above  ; 
this  we  may  call  the  dynamic  or  relative  conception."  The 
third  theory  is  more  comjDreliensive,  and  gives  due  rec- 
ognition to  both  the  empirical  determinations  ;  it  is  the 
theory  presented  above.  Its  roots  in  the  history  of 
doctrine  will  be  traced  below ;  and  here,  as  elsewhere,  we 
find  the  oldest  and  plainest  conception  to  be  most  true. 


'  So  the  Neo-Kantians  sukI  idealisfs  generally,  wIjo  hold  that  feeling 
as  given  in  consciousness  is  ahva^^s  made  absolute  in  the  knowing  pro- 
cess :  its  worth  to  us  is  its  represented  worth  to  us. 

'^So  Spencer  and  his  followers:  see,  especiallj',  Dumout,  Tlicorie 
Scieittififiue  do  la  S  nsihilile. 


128  BEJYSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

This  theory  results  in  what  may  be  called  the  genetio 
conception  of  sensuous  tone. 

The  theory  which  is  called  above  static  may  be  either  a 
physiological  or  an  intellectual  theory.  The  clearest  state- 
ment and  defence  of  the  view  which  confines  integration  to 
the  nervous  basis  is,  without  doubt,  that  of  Grant  Allen.  He 
defines  pain  as  "  the  subjective  concomitant  of  destructive  ac- 
tion or  insufficient  nutrition  in  any  sentient  tissue/'' and 
pleasure  as  "  the  subjective  concomitant  of  the  normal 
amount  of  function  in  any  such  tissue."  This,  it  is  plain, 
is  an  adequate  statement  of  the  integration  or  organic  side, 
but  this  would  still  be  true  of  a  fixed  self -repeating  organism  ; 
and  if  pleasure  and  pain  are  to  be  in  any  sense  the  vehicle  of 
progressive  adaptations  to  environment,  we  must  transcend 
this  definition.  "  Pleasure  and  pain  are  not  prophetic,"  as  he 
truly  says,  as  regards  the  secondary  effects  of  one  single  stim- 
ulus— the  poisoning  which  follows  the  sweet  taste  of  sugar  of 
lead  :  but  they  are  prophetic  of  the  effects  of  future  stimula- 
tions of  the  same  kind.  For  example,  the  pleasures  of  exer- 
cise under  incidental  pains  of  misadjustment  are  prophetic  of 
similar  pleasures  without  pain,  when  the  same  muscles  have 
better  adjustment  in  consequence  of  this  exercise. 

Physiologically  this  account,  which  is  that  also  of  Spencer  * 
and  Eomanes,^  may  be  considered  sufficient,  provided  that 
degrees  of  adjustment  of  the  organ  to  its  stimulus,  to  be  felt 
at  all,  involve  some  change  in  tissue  as  respects  integration. 
But  as  conscious  states,  the  feelings  of  degrees  of  adjustment 
are  so  clearly  distinguished  from  those  of  organic  function  it- 
self, that  the  two  conditions  become  separable.  And  this  we 
shall  find  justified  further,  if  it  turns  out  that  there  are  intel- 
lectual or  ideal  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain  distinguishable 
from  such  sensuous  feelings  ;  and  again,  if  in  these  ideal  feel- 
ings we  find  the  same  distinction  between  feelings  of  function 
and  feelings  of  adjustment. 

The  intellectual  view  of  sensuous  tone  illustrates  another 
aspect  of  feeling  considered  as  the  inner  side  of  function. 
Hume  and  Locke  have  no  feelings  apart  from  "  secondary  im- 
pressions "  and  "  ideas."  The  Neo-Kantians  refuse  to  allow 
pure  feeling,  except  as  "sensuous  impulse,"  and  this  impulse 

'  Physiological  Esthetics,  p  29. 

*  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i.  part.  ii.  chap,  ix  :  pain  arises  when 
activity  is  either  too  slight  or  excessive. 

'  Mental  Ewlution  in  Animals,  pp.  105-111. 


THEORIES.  129 

is  to  be  utterly  discredited  and  driven  out  upon  the  bleak  high- 
ways of  empirical  absurdity.  A  feeling  to  be  felt  must  be 
known  to  be  felt :  but  to  be  known  to  be  felt  it  must  be  re- 
lated to  a  self  that  knows  :  to  be  thus  related  it  must  be 
brought  under  the  general  a  priori  rules  of  the  self-identical 
thinking  subject,  and  so  on  through  the  mazes  of  a  terminology 
which  makes  a  sane  man  shiver  ;  for  where  is  the  warmth  of 
feeling  after  such  a  process  ?  It  is  sufficient  to  say  here,  that 
sensuous  tone  is  much  simpler  than  this.  If  I  put  my  hand  on 
a  red-iiot  stove,  I  do  not  wait  for  the  feeling  to  be  taken  up  into 
relation  to  my  rational  self-identical  subject,  subsumed  under 
the  general  notions  of  unity  and  causality,  and  schematized 
in  the  productive  imagination  ;  and  then  decide  that  my  sen- 
suous impulse  is  worthy  of  a  movement  of  my  sell-identical 
subject  for  its  self-realization  in  time  !  No,  what  I  do  is  to 
feel  the  pain  and  remove  my  hand,  and  it  is  probable  that  I 
do  not  even  know  what  hurts  me  till  my  hand  is  in  my  pocket 
again. 

In  short,  feeling  is  not  knowledge,  and  we  want  no  theory 
that  tells  us  that  it  is.' 

The  Herbartians,  again,  make  feeling  dependent  on  the 
intellectual  function  considered  as  a  play  of  representative 
elements  or  forces.  The  inadequacy  of  this  theory  as  an 
account  of  sensuous  feeling  is  so  apparent  that  thinkers  of 
this  school  make  a  sharp  distinction  between  sensation  and 
feeling,''  and  rule  the  former  out  of  account  altogether.  But 
of  course  tliis  is  tantamount  to  an  acknowledgment  that  the 
ideal  theory  of  feeling  does  not  cover  the  whole  of  sensibility. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  relative  theory  finds  an  able 
exponent  in  Dumont.  ^  To  him  the  stability  of  the  life-process 
and  its  integration  are  secondary  to  its  adjustments.  All 
adjustment  is  pleasurable,  but  adjustment  means,  in  so  far, 
equilibrium  of  function  and  conservation  of  self.  Hence  all 
expenditure  is  painful  and  all  integration  pleasurable.  So 
pleasure  is  an  increase  in  the  store  of  disposable  energy, 
and  pain  a  decrease. 

This  position  may  be  met — apart  from  facts,  such  as  the 
pleasures  of  exercise — by  one  of  the  points  of  relativity  which 
Duniont  liimself  urges,  i.e.,  that  habit,  while  it  fixes  and 
intensifies  knowledge,  diminishes  feeling."     Now,  if  pleasure 

'  Leibnitz  brings  in  feeling  under  cover  of  his  "  unconscious  presen- 
tations, "and  Heg(;i  defines  feeling  as  "obscure  knowledge." 

^  Nalilowsky,  Das  GefuhlHlehen,  pp-  17  and  30:  also  Lindner,  Ernpiri- 
sche  Psychologie,  p.  152,  Anm.  3. 

3  Loc.  cil.  *  Ibid.,  pp.  77,  78. 


130  SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

increase  with  novelty  and  decrease  witli  habit,  does  not  this 
show  that  pleasure  accompanies  increasing  expenditure  ? 
Certainly  a  habitual  chain  of  ideas  involves  less  expenditure 
than  a  new  chain,  and  yet  it  gives  less  pleasure.  Dumont 
overlooks  this,  and  claims  that  the  breaking  up  of  a  habit, 
which  involves  much  expenditure,  is  painful:  and  so  it  is, 
becaiise  the  expenditure  exceeds  the  limits  of  adjustments 
inside  of  the  integrations  brought  about  by  habit. 

Dumont  criticises  the  theory  that  makes  pleasure  the 
concomitant  of  moderate  activity  on  the  ground,  that  it  gives 
a  fixity  and  typical  character  to  sensuous  feelings,  which 
their  meaning  in  the  life-development  disputes.  This  criti- 
cism we  follow  as  far  as  holding  that  the  so-called  ''energy 
theory"  must  be  supplemented  by  an  adjustment  factor:  but 
it  does  not  follow  that  there  are  no  fixed  organic  integrations 
at  all,  necessary  to  feeling.'  Ferrier  takes  the  relative  view. 
"  Pleasurable  and  painful  feelings,"  he  says,  "may  be  regarded 
as  the  subjective  expression  of  physical  harmony  or  dishar- 
mony between  the  organism  and  the  influences  acting  on  it."  * 

What  has  been  called  the  genetic  conception  is  illustrated 
by  a  number  of  historical  positions,  all  ajjproximating  the 
truth,  but  clothing  it  in  ambiguous  statement.  From  Plato 
to  Hamilton,  the  genetic  doctrine  has  been  current  in  as 
adequate  terms  as  could  well  be,  before  the  rise  of  the  develop- 
ment hypothesis.  Plato  defines  pleasure  as  harmonious 
energy,  and  pain  as  disharmonious  energy;  but  harmonious 
energy  to  Plato  means  the  natural  state  of  function,  the 
proper  realization  of  normal  organization.^     Hence  we  find 

'  Loc.  cit.,  p.  54. 

'  Functions  of  the  Brain,  3d  ed.,  p.  429. 

^  The  older  iiiterpretatiou  of  Plato  (see  Hamilton,  Metaphysics, 
Lect.  43),  derived  from  Aristotle's  exposition  of  Plato,  is  inadequate, 
i.e.,  that  Plato  held  pleasure  to  be  a  cessation  of  pain.  Plato  dis- 
tinguishes between  higher  pleasures  and  lower,  holds  that  higher  or 
intellectual  pleasures  are  not  relative  to  pains,  and  among  sensuous 
states  distinguishes  some  pleasures  (those  of  taste  and  smell)  as  not 
preceded  by  pain.  I  am  indebted  for  the  following  note  on  the  subject 
to  the  learned  Platonist,  Prof.  S.  S.  Orris.  "Plato  says  expressly  that 
there  are  pleasures  which  have  no  antecedent  pains,  .  . .  although  the 
pleasures  which  reach  tlie  soul  through  the  body  are  generally  reliefs 
from  pain  (Rep.,  ix.  584,  6.  c).  He  teaches  that  the  highest  pleasure 
consists  in  harmonious  energy  (Rep.,  ix.  586  d,  and  587  a).  Of  these  pain- 
less pleasures,  some,  he  says,  are  concomitant  on  pure  mental  exercises 
(eTticrrrjjiiais),  and  some  on  exercises  of  the  senses  {dio-OT/aeaiy — Phil., 


THEORIES.  131 

in  Plato's  doctrine  the  essential  elements  of  the  genetic  theory: 
"energy"  seems  to  mean  "function,"  and  '"harmonious" 
seems  to  mean  "  well  adjusted."  The  fault  in  Plato,  from 
our  present  i3oint  of  view,  is  lack  of  confirmation,  and  lack 
of  adequate  realization  of  the  progressiveness  of  function 
through  paiu. 

In  Aristotle  the  genetic  idea  reached  fuller  statement. 
*'The  most  agreeable  sensation,"  he  says,  "is  the  most  perfect, 
and  the  most  perfect  is  that  of  the  being  which  is  well 
adjusted  to  the  best  of  the  available  stimulations  of  the  sense 
in  question.  Pleasure  is  greatest  where  sensation  is  most 
lively,  and  where  it  is  exercised  upon  its  most  perfect  object."  * 
Pain,  on  the  other  hand,  is  lack  of  "  perfection  "  in  either  of 
the  two  directions;  in  tlie  mental  state  itself  (function),  or  in 
its  object  (adjustment).  Hamilton,  to  Avhom  belongs  the 
credit  of  throwing  the  theory  of  Aristotle  into  relief  in 
modern  discussion,  states  the  same  position  in  the  terms  of 
the  faculty  psychology,  and  so  gives  it  a  distinctly  less  philo- 
sophical expression  than  Aristotle's.  The  genetic  or  develop- 
ment element  present  in  Aristotle's  metaphysics  of  matter 
and  form  loses  its  prominence  when  translated  into  the  fixed 
types  of  the  faculty  theory.  Dumont's  criticism  *  to  this 
effect  certainly  holds  against  Hamilton.  **  Pleasure,"  says 
Hamilton,  "is  a  reflex  of  the  spontaneous  and  unimpeded 
exertion  of  a  power  of  whose  energy  we  are  conscious,"  and 
"pain,  a  reflex  of  the  overstrained  or  repressed  exertion  of 
such  a  power." 

But  ridding  these  formulas  of  their  confusion  of  reflexes 

66  c).  As  if  differing  from  Plato,  Aristotle  says  that  pain  is  not  in  all 
cases  the  antecedent  of  pleasure;  that  the  pleasures  of  mathematical 
studies  are  without  pain;  and  of  the  pleasures  of  the  senses,  those  of 
smell  are  not  accompanied  with  pain.  But  Plato  says  the  same — that 
the  pleasures  of  learning  (raS  t£v  /la^Tjixdrcsv  ijSovdi)  are  unmixed 
with  paiu  {d^iKroVi  eivat  Xi'neii — Phil.,  526),  and  that  the  pleasures 
of  smell  (raS  nepl  zdi  ocrndi)  are  without  antecedent  pain  (Rep.,  ix. 
584  b).  .  .  .  Plato  says,  '  With  those  who  maintain  that  all  pleasures  are  a 
cessation  of  pain,  I  do  not  at  all  agree  '(Pliil.,  51  a).  .  .  .  'There  are  pleas- 
ures unmixed  with  pain — the  pleasures  not  of  the  many,  but  of  the  few  ' 
(Phil.,  52  b)."  The  element  of  truth  in  the  Hamiltonian  interpretation 
is  that  Plato  holds  sensuous  pleasure  not  to  be  a  good  in  the  ethical 
eeuse,  and  that,  in  arguing  this  ethical  question,  he  emphasizes  the  rela- 
tivity of  pleasure. 

'  Free  translation  from  Nic.  Eth.,  x.  4. 

'  Loc.  cit.,  pp.  63-55. 


132  SEIfSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

with  consciousnesses,  and  powers  with  energies,  and  stating 
the  meaning  we  get  clearly  enough  from  Hamilton's  context 
in  this  celebrated  lecture,^  we  find  no  hesitation  in  saying 
that  he  covers  the  whole  case  apart  from  the  above  criticism. 
Thus,  translated  into  present-day  terms,  he  may  read : 
"  Pleasure  is  consciousness  of  spontaneous  (functional)  and 
unimpeded  (well-adjusted)  activity  (condition),"  and  pain  the 
"  consciousness  of  overstrained  or  repressed  (functional)  (and 
ill-adjusted)  activity  (condition)/'  The  theory  is  here  limited, 
however,  to  its  sensuous  application. 

Stuart  Mill's  celebrated  criticism  of  Hamilton  " — i.e.,  that 
in  certain  tastes  all  activity  is  painful — is  sufficiently  met  by 
either  of  two  suj)positions:  either  that  such  tastes  are  cases 
of  direct  disintegration  of  tissue  (as  certain  acids),  in  which 
case  it  is  the  disintegration  and  not  the  taste  wliich  is  really 
painful;  or,  second,  tliat  such  tastes  (rhubarb.  Mill's  example) 
are  cases  where  the  adjustment  is  ahead  of  the  integration, 
and  the  organism  repels  the  damaging  stimulation.  It  illus- 
trates the  criticism  quoted  above  from  Dumont,  that  the 
theory  as  held  by  Hamilton  is  not  relative  enough,  and  marks 
the  necessity  of  substituting  the  word  "  condition "  for 
activity  or  "power,"  in  the  Hamiltonian  formula. 

Other  theories  which  we  may  still  include  under  the 
genetic  idea  are  mucii  less  adequate.  They  emphasize  some 
one  aspect,  to  the  concealment  of  others.  Descartes  makes 
pleasure  and  pain  a  "  consciousness  of  greater  or  less  perfec- 
tion." True,  as  far  as  it  goes,  if  by  consciousness  we  do  not 
run  into  the  absoluteness  of  a  conscious  judgment  of  such 
perfection.^  Spinoza  is  truer  in  saying  "pleasure  is  the  pas 
sage  of  a  man  from  less  to  greater  perfection,"  and  "  pain  is 
the  passage  of  a  man  from  greater  to  less  perfection ; "  ^  for  it 
brings  out  the  relative  side  in  tlie  word  "  passage,"  and  bears 
an  interpretation — from  analogy  of  other  passages  of  the 
Ethics — of  "  perfection  "  in  terms  of  full  or  complete  function. 
His  relativity  finds  its  limits,  also,  in  the  principle  of  self-con- 
servation [conatus),  which  is  the  essence  of  the  active  thing. 

In  Kant  we  find  a  genetic  statement  which  is,  however, 

not  free  from  the  "■  absolute  "  rational  influence  of  Wolfe  and 

Descartes.     He  defines  sensuous  pleasure  {Vergniigen)  as  the 

^  • — ■ 

'  Metaphysics,  Lect.  43.     Bouillier  follows  Hamilton. 

»  Exam,  of  Hamilton,  chap.  xxv. 

^  Descartes  seems  to  have  doue  more  justice  to  the  adjustment  side  in 
an  earlier  view  of  pleasure  as  "  correspondence  of  the  object  with  the 
senses  ":  De  la  Physique,  ch.  iv,  quoted  by  Dumont,  loc.  ciL,  p.  45. 

*  Ethics,  definitions  2  and  3  at  end  of  book  iii. 


PLEASURE  AND  PAIN  AS   WORTH.  133 

feeling  of  the  advancement  (Brfurdenoig),  and  pain  {Schmcrz) 
the  feeling  of  a  hindering,  of  the  life-])rocess: '  yet,  as  Wundt 
points  out,  this  advancement  or  hindrance  was  in  Kant  ar- 
rived at  by  a  process  of  unconscious  judgment.  Lotze  and 
Wundt  followed  with  the  distinct  claim  of  such  an  uncon- 
scious intellectual  elt-ment  in  feeling,  but  later  retracted  it  in 
favor  of  a  view  very  near  that  of  Hamilton.'^  Lotze  finds  a 
special  nervous  process  involved  in  pleasure  and  pain. 

Bain  recognizes  the  twofold,  nature  of  tlie  facts  and  calls 
in  a  principle  of  "stimulation  "  to  supplement  the  general 
law  that  "states  of  pleasure  are  connected  with  an  increase 
and  states  of  pain  with  an  abatement  of  some  or  all  of  the 
vital  functions."^  He  expresses  the  principle  of  stimulation 
thus:  "Certain  modes  of  exciting  the  nerves,  irrespective  of 
the  rise  of  physical  vigor,  .  .  .  are  accompanied  with  pleasure, 
and  certain  other  modes  with  pain."*  The  meaning  of  this 
twofoldness  in  principle,  from  the  development  point  of 
view,  is  not  grasped  by  Bain.  Yet  we  have  ourselves  intimated, 
as  he  claiuis,  that  "  it  is  better,  in  the  present  state  of  our 
knowledge,  not  to  push  either  principle  to  exclusive  predomi- 


nance." " 


§  4.  Sensuous  Pleasure  ajstd  PAiif  as  Worth. 

It  is  important  to  hold  clearly  to  the  fact  that  the 
foregoing  definitions  deal  only  with  our  objective  knowl- 
edge of  the  physical  process.  We  can  only  say  from 
introspection  that  we  feel  a  sensation,  or  a  pleasure,  or  a 
pain,  not  that  we  feel  perfect  activity,  or  advanced  func- 
tion, or  favorable  adjustment,  or  self-realization.  These 
are  our  theoretical  interpretations,  and  have  absolutely 
no  part  in  consciousness.  The  sensation  itself  does  not 
carry  its  own  worth  as  an  object  of  pursuit.  What  I 
feel  at  first,  however  it  may  be  later  identified  with  my 
idea  about  it,  is  only  the  pleasurable  or  painful  modifi- 

'  AnViropologie,  p.  144. 

"  Cf.  Wundt,  Phys.  Psych.,  2d  ed.,  i.  pp.  495-6. 
'  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  288. 
*Ibid.,  p.  i300. 

*Domrich  and  Hagen  hold  positions  similar  to  Bain's.     Paffe  gives 
an  able  statement  of  the  genetic  view,  Considerations  sur  la  Sensibilite. 


134  SENSUOUS  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

cation  of  mj  sensibility.  Here  Wunclt  warns  us  by  the 
best  of  "warnings — liis  own  retraction  from  an  intellect- 
ual theory  of  feeling.'  Lotze  truly  says  of  tlie  theories 
that  make  the  nervous  system  the  means  of  a  unit  ex- 
pression to  consciousness  of  the  activities  of  the  world, 
that  "  those  speculative  meanings  are  not  in  the  sensa- 
tion itself;  .  .  .  they  are  all  no  more  than  fancies  about 
sensation,  not  the  peculiar  fancy  of  sensation  itself :"  * 
and  it  is  as  true  of  the  more  sober  doctrine  of  the  evolu- 
tionists as  of  the  involved  conception  of  the  Hegelians. 

Pleasure,  tlierefore,  is  at  first  pursued  not  because  it 
is  worth  pursuit,  but  because  it  is  pleasurable  :  and 
pain  avoided  because  it  is  painful,  not  because  it  is 
damaging.^ 

On  pleasure  and  x>oi'>ii  consult  :  Bain,  Senses  and  Intellect,  pp. 
2911,  and  Emotions  and  Will,  chap.  i.  §§  8-13  ;  Grant  Allen,  PAws- 
iolog.  Esthetics,  chap,  n;  Spencer,  Pi-inciples  of  Psych.,  part  n. 
chap.  IX,  and  Data  of  Ethics,  chaps,  ii-iv  ;  Ward,  loc.  cit.  ;  (theories 
of)  Sidgwick,  Methods  of  Ethics,  pp.  178-94 ;  Romanes,  Mental 
Evolution  in  Animals,  chap,  vni  ;  James  Mill,  Phenomena  of  the 
Human  Mind,  chaps,  xvii-xxi  ;  the  psychologies,  inlocis  ;  Beaunis, 
Sensations  i7}ternes,  chaps,  xvn-xxni ;  Wundt,  Phys.  Psych.,  i.  cap. 
10;  Kant,  Antlwopologie,  ^  58-64 ;  Rabier,  Psychologic,  chap. 
XXXV;  Bouillier,  Plaisir  et  Douleur  ;  Dumont,  Theorie  de  la  Setisi- 
bilite,  pp.  125  ff.  ;  Hamilton.  Metaphysics,  Leets.  42-44  ;  Bradley, 
Mind,  xiu  ;  Eth.  Studies,  pp.  78-144;  Martineau,  Types  of  Eth. 
Theory,  ii.  p.  297  ;  Sully,  Pessimism,  chap,  xi  ;  Grote,  Psych,  de  la 
Sensibilite ;  Richet,  V Homme  et  V Intelligence,  i;  Schneider,  Freud 
und  Leid  ;  Kroner,  Das  Oefiild,  Absch.  III.  See  also  the  references 
in  the  text  of  the  present  chapter. 

^  Loc.  cit,  p.  497. 

'  Microcosmus,  Eng.  trans.,  bk.  i.  p.  566. 

^  Further  questions,  such  as  the  duration  of  sensuous  tone,  its  relation 
to  attention,  the  possible  indifference  of  lower  sensibility,  are  more 
profitably  taken  up  in  the  discussion  of  ideal  pleasure  and  pain,  Chap.  XI. 


IDEAL  FEELING. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

NATURE  AND  DIVISIONS  OF  IDEAL  FEELING. 

Ideal  vs.  Sensuous  Feeling.  From  a  study  of  general 
consciousness  in  connection  witli  the  nervous  system  an 
understanding  lias  already  been  arrived  at  as  to  the 
nature  of  sensibility.  The  term  denotes  the  subjective 
aspect  of  consciousness  anywhere  and  everywhere.  And 
this  fact  of  feeling  has  been  inquired  into  as  far  as  it 
appears  in  connection  with  bodily  states,  i.e.,  as  sen- 
suous. In  considering  sensations,  however,  as  special 
forms  of  sensuous  feeling,  we  found  it  possible  to  draw  a 
sharp  line  only  theoretically  between  its  affective  and 
presentative  aspects.  Sensations,  therefore,  mark  the 
transition  from  consciousness  as  pure  feeling  to  con- 
sciousness as  knoivledge,  as  presentation,  as  representa- 
tion, as  thought, — or  best,  because  most  general,  as 
apperception. 

The  further  question,  then,  is  :  Is  there  an  inner,  or 

feeling,  side  to  the  world  of  ideas  ?     Are  we  sensible  of, 

or  do  we  feel,  the  phases  of  the  apperceptive  process  ? 

The  simple  answer  of  consciousness  is,  yes ;  and  there 

is  opened  before  us  the  great  class  of  feelings  called 

ideal.     Ideal  feelings,  tlierefore,  are  the  modifications  of 

sensibility  tvhich  accompany  the  exercise  of  the  apperceptive 

function. 

135 


136    NATURE  AND  DIVISIONS  OF  IDEAL  FEELING. 

Ideal  feeling  is  then,  as  Hodgson '  says,  a  new  kind  of 
sensibility ;  it  is  sensibility  accompanying  a  new  kind 
of  nervous  process.  The  apperceptive  function  has  its 
organic  basis  in  some  kind  of  a  brain-process  which 
represents  the  combining  of  special  centres  in  the  hemi- 
spheres and  the  dynamic  union  of  their  energies.  If  the 
function  performed  by  the  attention  is  new,  so  also  is 
the  awareness  of  it,  and  the  modes  of  mental  excitement 
which  attach  to  its  different  phases. 

Ideal  Feelings  as  Special  and  Common.  The  analogy 
of  sensuous  feeling  serves  us  to  indicate  another  distinc- 
tion. Besides  certain  special  feelings — sensations — 
which  are  brought  about  by  the  exercise  of  particular 
organic  functions,  we  found  a  great  fund  of  common  sen- 
sibility— organic  feeling — which  seemed  to  belong  to  the 
living  being  as  an  organism.  The  motor  feelings  were 
found  everywhere,  the  muscles  being  the  most  general 
outlet  for  the  nervous  process  which  brings  feeling 
about.  So  upon  an  examination  of  the  "  feelings  of 
ideas,"  we  are  able  to  make  an  analogous  distinction. 
On  the  one  side  there  are  the  special  kinds  of  mental  ex- 
citement, which  are  developed  in  connection  with  par- 
ticular synthetic  processes  :  memory  yields  regret,  re- 
morse, pride ;  imagination  throws  us  into  expectation, 
hope,  fear,  love.  Such  states  of  sensibility  we  may  call 
emotions.  They  are  the  special  forms  of  ideal  feeling 
just  as  sensations  are  special  forms  of  sensuous  feeling. 
But  they  do  not  exhaust  the  subjective  element  of  this 
stage  of  consciousness.  There  is  an  undertone  of  feel- 
ing, a  basis  of  sensibility,  which  is  not  disturbed  during 
the  mutations  of  the  emotional  life — feelings  upon  which 
all  the  emotions  depend,  feelings  due  to  the  fact  of 
mental  synthesis  itself  :  such  are  the  feeling  of  reality y 


'  Theory  of  Practice,  i.  pp.  107-8. 


DIVISION.  137 

feeling  of  interest,  etc.    These  we  may  call  common  ideal 
feelings. 

Ideal  Pleasure  and  Pain.  Further,  here  as  elsewhere, 
indifterence  would  seem  to  be  impossible :  all  ideal 
sensibility  would  be  expected  to  have  tone,  as  pleasur- 
able or  painful.  And,  further,  the  general  law  of  apper- 
ceptive revival  would  lead  us  to  expect  the  picturing  of 
past  pleasures  and  pains  to  play  an  important  role  in  the 
development  of  the  mental  life. 

It  will  be  profitable,  accordingly,  to  turn  attention  to 
common  ideal  feeling,  special  ideal  feelings  or  emotions, 
and  ideal  pleasure  and  pain,  in  the  order  in  which  they 
are  here  named. 


COMMON  IDEAL  FEELING. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

General  Character  of  Common  Ideal  Peeling.  The 
enumeration  of  the  elements  of  feeling  common  to  the 
intellectual  processes  throughout  is  necessarily  partial 
and  inexact.  If  this  were  not  so,  if  these  elements  of 
feeling  stood  out  clearly  in  relief  in  consciousness,  they 
would  be  special  feelings  and  not  common.  It  is  only 
as  we  catch  an  affective  undertone  and  learn  the  broader 
phases  of  our  life  of  thought,  that  we  come  to  reach  such 
distinctions  as  that  between  interest  and  belief,  between 
belief  and  effort,  and  see  that  these  undertones  are 
always  present  when  we  think  or  strive  at  all. 

Accordingly,  the  names  given  to  these  so-called  com- 
mon feelings  often  overlap  in  their  meanings  and  are 
often  confused.  The  general  terms  of  ordinary  usage 
are  accepted  below,  and  we  shall  find  that  the  more 
special  the  concept  grows  under  each  head — as  hesitation, 
perplexity,  etc.,  under  belief — the  more  definite  is  the 
mental  movement  which  it  accompanies.  The  following 
aspects  of  common  ideal  feeling  may,  on  this  under- 
standing, be  profitably  considered  :  Interest,  Reality-feel- 
ing, and  Belief.^ 

'  The  feeling  of  consent  or  effort  would  naturally  suggest  itself  also 
here  as  being  one  of  the  broadest  aspects  of  intellectual  feeling ;  but  it 
comes  up  more  properly  under  the  detailed  treatment  of  Will  below. 
The  feeling  of  se(/"also  can  not  be  adequately  treated  here,  since  it  is  so 
closely  connected  with  the  voluntary  life  ;  j'et  as  a  matter  of  classifica- 


tion it  must  not  be  omitted  from  common  ideal  feeling. 


138 


CONDITIONS  OF  INTEREST.  139 

§  1.  Interest. 

A  general  cliaracterization  of  interest  as  a  psycho- 
logical state  is  best  reached  when  we  ask  ^\n■y  it  is  that 
we  act  voluntarily  in  this  way  or  that.  The  answer  must 
invariably  be,  because  we  are  interested  in  this  course  of 
action  or  that.  As  will  appear  later,  the  most  important 
thing  about  interest  is  its  quality  as  stimulating  the 
will.  A  thing  is  interesting  to  me  when,  for  any  reason, 
it  appeals  to  my  attention — when  it  is  worth  looking  at 
— when  it  is  so  related  to  me  that  I  am  led  to  investigate 
it ;  and  the  feeling  of  interest  is  this  need  of  looking, 
investigating,  finding  out  about.  A  child  is  said  to  show 
no  interest  when  he  is  entirely  satisfied,  saturated,  with 
his  toy,  and  leaves  it. 

Now,  can  we  get  any  clearer  idea  of  the  mental  ante- 
cedents and  conditions  of  the  feeling  of  interest,  or  must 
we  be  content  with  such  a  general  descrijjtion  ?  As  to 
what  interest  is,  certainly  we  can  add  nothing  to  the 
feeling  of  it  in  consciousness,  just  as  all  feeling  is  an 
ultimate  subjective  fact.  But  if  it  be  true  that  feeling 
is  the  inner  accompaniment  of  a  brain-process,  and  per- 
haps of  an  intellectual  process,  then  our  description  may 
be  supplemented  by  the  determination  of  what  these 
added  conditions  are. 

Another  use  of  the  word  interest — usually  in  the  plural, 
interests — must  be  pointed  out:  a  person's  interest  or  interests 
may  mean  his  advantage.  A  man  is  jiot  always  interested  in 
pursuing  liis  best  interests.  aS'Svill  appear  ;  tlie  two  nt(>aning8 
are  not  altogether  remote  from  each  other,  and  pojiular  usage 
of  the  word  in  the  two  meanings  has  its  [)hilosophical  justifi- 
cation. 

Physiological  Basis  of  Interest  and  Indifference.  On 
an  earlier  page,  when  gathering  up  our  conception  of 
nervous  function,  we  found  reason  to  recognize  two  great 
laws,   i.e.,    the   laws  of  habit  and  accommodation.    And 


140  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

occasion  was  taken  to  say  of  habit,  that  "  psjchologicallj 
it  means  loss  of  oversight,  diffusion  of  attention,  subsid- 
ing consciousness ;"  and  of  accommodation,  that  "  psy- 
chologically it  means  reviving  consciousness,  concentra- 
tion of  attention,  voluntary  control — the  mental  state 
which  has  its  most  general  expression  in  what  we  know 
as  interest."  "  In  habit  and  interest  we  find  the  psy- 
chological poles  corresponding  to  the  lowest  and  the 
highest  in  the  activities  of  the  nervous  sj'stem." 

Interest,  then,  is  the  most  general  awareness  of  the 
process  of  our  intellectual  life,  and  as  such  represents 
the  highest  and  most  unstable  form  of  nervous  integra- 
tion. Wherever  there  is  the  nervous  basis  of  attention 
and  will,  there  is  sufficient  physical  reason  for  the  feeling 
of  interest.  And  wherever,  by  reason  of  fatigue  or  dis- 
ease, attention  and  will  are  not  called  out,  the  physical 
process  is  accompanied  by  the  feeling  of  indifference  ; 
that  is,  there  is  then  a  reversion  to  a  stratum  of  nervous 
structure  and  function  which  is  dominated  more  by  habit. 

Physiological  research,  liowever,  has  little  to  say  in  detail 
about  the  organic  conditions  of  this  class  of  feelings.  So  in- 
definite is  our  knowledge  of  the  central  brain-processes,  that 
even  the  coarser  sensuous  feelings  can  not  be  given  any  ade- 
quate explanation  ;  and  it  may  be  said  once  for  all  that  the 
subtler  phases  of  sensibility  covered  by  the  term  "  ideal "  fail 
of  all  particular  characterization  from  the  physical  side. 
Emotional  expression  in  the  case  of  the  more  boisterous  feel- 
ings is  our  only  clue — some  say  an  all-sufficient  clue — to  a 
psycho-physical  conception.  It  remains,  therefore,  to  inquire 
into  the  mental  conditions  of  interest. 

Intellectual  Conditions  of  Interest.  The  general 
physiological  analogies  mentioned  above  lead  to  several 
presumptions  which  we  find  neatly  confirmed  by  the 
psychology  of  interest. 

1.  Any  reaction  of  consciousness  which  is  repeated 
without  variation  becomes   uninteresting ;  the  nervous 


INTEREST  OF  EXPLORATIOK  141 

process  passes  from  the  stage  of  fresh  accommodation  to 
the  stage  of  habit  by  the  process  of  downward  growth. 

On  the  psychological  side  we  may  call  this  the  prin- 
ciple of  repetition,  and  say  that  intellectual  repetition 
diminisJies  interest.  We  have  only  to  understand  a  thing 
thoroughly  to  lose  our  immediate  interest  in  it.  Very 
few  novels  are  worth  reading  a  second  time  if  interest  is 
the  measure  of  worth.  It  is  hard  to  get  up  interest  in 
the  departments  of  study  which  deal  with  descriptive  de- 
tails and  statements  of  fact,  and  present  no  new  openings 
for  thought.  The  conversation  of  our  maiden  aunts,  de- 
tailing the  illnesses  and  recoveries  of  our  early  child- 
hood, no  longer  arouse  our  enthusiasm. 

2.  On  the  contrary,  new  relations  are  interesting  ;  the 
nervous  growth  is  "  upward,"  involving  higher  integra- 
tions. Illustrations  are  not  needed  for  any  one  who  has 
ever  reflected  on  the  passion  for  news,  the  course  of  ru- 
mor, and  the  delights  of  gossip  for  all  mankind.  This 
may  be  called  the  principle  of  noveltij,  and  we  may  say 
that  the  intellectually  neivis  interesting. 

3.  The  contradictory  of  the  feeling  of  interest  is  not 
indifference,  but  ennui,  mental  fatigue,  boredom.  In- 
difference means  the  reign  of  nervous  habit,  the  draining 
off  of  energy  in  an  accustomed  channel.  But  ennui 
means  the  distaste  that  arises  from  exhaustion  of  energy. 
It  is  a  positive  feeling  as  truly  as  is  fatigue. 

Interest  of  Discrimination  or  Exploration.'  These  in- 
tellectual conditions  may  be  set  apart  as  contributing  to 
interest  of  a  particular  sort, — the  feeling  of  curiosity,  of 
exploration.     It  is  never  realized  in   its  purity  because 

'  It  would  be  interesting  to  inquire  \vh(^ther  JiU  cases  of  intellectual 
interest  might  not  be  considered  inoditications  of  a  fuudauu  nial  inicrest 
in  recof/nition.  The  absoUilely  novel  is  not  usually  inlercsiing  ;  and 
what  a  glow  of  inleresi  arises  when  what  seems  new  is,  after  all,  recog- 
nized us  related  to  earlier  thought! 


142  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

emotional  and  other  factors  mentioned  below  come  to 
modify  the  exploring  impulse.  But  in  a  cold,  calculating 
individual,  who  looks  ahead  and  weighs  the  chances, 
these  conditions  are  most  marked.  In  early  child-life, 
interest  is  almost  altogether  of  the  exploring  kind. 
First,  it  is  physical  exploration  :  the  infant  explores  his 
own  body,  then  foreign  bodies,  his  room,  then  adjacent 
rooms.  The  direction  of  his  attention  is  largely  acci- 
dental, depending  upon  casual  stimulations.  Then  there 
begins  a  kind  of  moral  exploration,  the  understanding  of 
his  own  dress,  toys,  utensils,  the  fitting  of  things  together, 
the  meaning  of  facial  and  vocal  expression.  The  explor- 
ing instinct  satisfied,  his  interest  is  at  an  end. 

This  class  of  interesting  experiences,  however,  belongs 
to  the  more  superficial,  shifting,  and  variable  side  of 
one's  life.  They  represent  the  come-and-go  of  the  atten- 
tion as  we  follow  its  quick  responses.  Purely  intellectual 
interest  is,  therefore,  temporary :  it  does  not  attach 
itself  firmly  enough  to  its  object  to  cause  the  latter 
to  become  one  of  our  interests  or  goods.  I  am  inter- 
ested in  the  morning  paper,  the  street  sights,  my  after- 
noon drive,  and  the  debating  society  ;  but  to-morrow 
a  set  of  new  engagements  carries  my  interest,  and  the 
experiences  of  yesterday,  now  past,  only  furnish  one  or 
two  points  at  which  my  permanent  life-interests  have 
been  touched.  What,  then,  constitutes  more  permanent 
interest,  over  and  above  the  simple  interest  of  the  intel- 
lectual act  of  discrimination  ? 

Emotional  and  Active  Interest.  So  far  interest  sim- 
ply represents  a  tendency  to  know.  Its  objects  are  mere 
objects  that  come  and  go  indifferently  to  us :  when  we 
have  learned  what  they  are  and  how  they  act,  our 
curiosity  is  satisfied.  But  bring  them  within  the  line  of 
our  emotional  or  volitional  reactions  and  ever^^thing  is 
changed.     Does  their  being  what  they  are  or  doing  what 


ACTIVE  INTEREST.  143 

they  do  Iiare  any  efiect  upon  me  ?  That  is  the  vital 
question.  The  errand-boy  in  an  office  carries  fifty  letters 
a  day  to  his  employer,  and  they  have  no  interest  for  him  ; 
he  knows  them  to  be  letters  for  X.  Y.  Z.,  and  his  curios- 
ity is  satisfied.  But  let  one  letter  come  to  himself,  and 
then  not  the  words  it  contains  or  the  love  it  brings  inter- 
ests him  alone ;  but  the  envelope,  its  sides  and  corners, 
the  stamp,  the  address,  the  very  odor  of  it,  fairly  burn 
him  with  their  interesting  aspects.  Anything,  in  short, 
gets  interesting  which  has,  besides  its  relation  to  other 
things  and  people,  a  power  to  make  me  feel  and  act.  I 
may  know  the  presence  of  a  thing  and  not  be  interested  ; 
but  I  cannot  feel  its  presence,  and  much  less  can  I  act 
upon  its  presence,  without  coming  to  think  it  to  be  worth 
my  close  attention.  And  such  emotional  interest  seems 
to  arise  in  different  circumstances,  as  follows  : 

1.  Whatever  directly  causes  me  pleasure  or  pain  ex- 
cites interest.  Here  the  reference  to  self  is  so  immediate 
that  the  knowing  function  which  the  attention  brings 
with  it  is  simply  a  self-preserving  function.  I  am  inter- 
ested in  pain  to  discover  its  cause  and  remove  it,  and  in 
pleasure  to  understand  and  continue  it.  This  is  what 
pleasure  and  pain  are  for,  to  warn  and  advise  ;  and  to  say 
they  interest  us  is  only  to  say  that  they  carry  this  func- 
tion into  the  life  of  thought. 

The  feeling  of  interest,  therefore,  seems  to  be  an 
added  thing  to  the  pleasure  and  pain  tone.  It  arises  in 
connection  with  the  apprehending  of  the  tone  and  its 
causes.  We  would  hardly  say  that  an  oyster  is  inter- 
ested when  a  sharp  instrument  is  thrust  painfully  be- 
tween his  shells.  The  intrusion  affects  him,  and  it  is  in 
his  interest  to  avoid  it ;  but  it  is  truer  to  say  that  it 
hurts  than  that  it  interests  him.  Circumstances  can  be 
conceived  in  which  pleasure  and  pain  would  lack  in- 
terest ;  as,  for  example,  the  pain  of  an  incurable  physical 
trouble  or   a  preying  mental  anxiety.     Such  pains  are 


144  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

understood  and  endured  without  any  but  tlie  negative 
interest  of  the  endeavor  to  forget  them. 

This  truth  applies  to  all  emotional  states,  with  their  pleas- 
ure or  pain  tone,  as  well  as  to  seusational  states.  Emotion 
always  terminates  on  an  object,  and  the  interest  excited  is  in- 
terest in  this  object  :  that  is,  the  interest  is  of  an  intellectual 
kind,  but  exists  because  of  the  relation  of  the  object  to  some 
outgoing  impulse.  The  objects  may  differ  and  have  place  in 
ditfei-ent  categories  according  to  the  quality  of  the  emotions 
whicli  excite  the  interest  :  thus  we  have  such  expressions  as 
"aesthetic  interest,"  "moral  interest,"  '^sympathetic  in- 
terest," etc.  But  interest  is  not  many  ;  it  is  one.  The 
variety  is  in  the  emotional  qualities  and  in  the  objects  of 
thought. 


•to' 


2.  Equally  original  is  the  interest  aroused  by  our  vo- 
litional life.  Ordinarily  we  act  in  reference  to  a  thing 
because  we  are  interested  in  it,  which  means  because  we 
are  impelled  by  intellectual  or  emotional  interest.  But 
it  is  still  true  that,  after  acting,  our  interest  is  greater  than 
before.  An}'-  effort  expended  on  a  thing  makes  it  more 
wortliful  to  us.  The  reader  may  have  only  the  interest  of 
courtesy  in  a  new  method  of  shuffling  cards  or  of  holding 
his  pen  ;  but  after  one  effort,  his  growing  interest  will 
lead  him  to  new  endeavors.  Again,  even  when  there  is 
at  first  no  thought  of  a  thing,  tool,  utensil,  etc.,  and  it  is 
used  only  as  a  means  to  a  more  distant  end,  interest  will 
gather  around  it  for  itself  after  long  use.  Who  does  not 
part,  with  an  interest  which  is  positive  pain,  from  an  old 
pair  of  shoes  or  his  last  summer's  straw  hat  ?  The  in- 
crease which  accrues  to  interest  by  sharing  it  also  illus- 
trates this  volitional  and  emotional  element.  Sharing 
is  the  result  of  the  emotion  of  sympathy  and  proceeds 
by  action. 

Here,  again,  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  interest  at- 
taches to  the  object,  not  to  the  activity,  except  in  early 
child-life,  when  movements  are  themselves  objects  of 
interest.     But  it  attaches  to  the  object  because  it  is  re- 


INTEREST  OF  CUSTOM.  145 

lated  to  my  activity.     No  one's  else  exertion  arouses  my 
interest  in  the  same  way. 

Interest  of  Custom  or  Habit.  Very  slight  self-obser- 
vation is  sufficient  to  show  that  while  repetition  dimin- 
ishes the  temporary  intellectual  interest  spoken  of,  it  is 
still  often  through  habituation  that  real  interests  are 
formed.  There  is  a  distinct  line  beyond  which  the 
customary  ceases  to  be  tiring  and  becomes  interesting. 
Before  this  line  of  experience,  things  are  faded  and 
washed  out  ;  but  as  we  grow  accustomed  to  them,  we 
begin  to  find  ourselves  expecting  to  find  them,  relying 
upon  them,  appealing  to  them  with  an  interest  born 
simply  of  old  acquaintanceship. 

It  is  undoubtedly  through  this  principle  of  custom 
that  some  of  our  deepest  life-interests  are  generated. 
We  grow  to  think  of  ourselves  with  certain  accessories 
which  have  always  accompanied  us.  So  a  business 
man's  interests  narrow  down  to  his  business,  because  all 
his  habits  bear  upon  it.  A  man  of  college  culture  loses 
his  interest  in  literature  and  science  because  his  regular 
routine  in  after-life  does  not  include  such  subjects.  We 
become  interested  in  certain  classes  of  people  because 
we  are  thrown  with  them.  The  cure  of  unfortunate  love 
is  separation,  and  the  hope  of  an  unsuccessful  suitor  lies 
in  the  art  of  keeping  himself  and  his  proposals  in  the 
mind  of  the  woman  he  hopes  to  win. 

Transfer  of  Interest  by  Association.  Among  the  facts 
now  cited  are  many  which  illustrate  what  we  may  call 
acquired  interest.  Apart  from  the  simple  exploring  im- 
pulse, which  works  by  suggestion,  all  interest  in  objects 
is  thus  acquired  through  their  association  with  our- 
selves or  with  things  already  interesting.'     The  revival  of 

'  This  is  the  obverse  statement  of  the  law  of  association  by  interest  or 
"  preference"  [Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  xi.  §  2).    The  two  aspects  of 


146  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

an  idea  by  association  serves  for  the  recurrence  of  tlie 
emotional  state  connected  with  it,  and  it  is  true,  as 
Hume  held,  that  the  intellectual  link  of  association  may 
fall  away  while  its  peculiar  emotional  state  remains  to 
color  the  suggesting  idea.  A  dangerous-looking  knife  is 
interesting  simply  from  its  murderous  possibilities. 
When  we  question  such  an  emotion  closely,  we  know 
that  it  arises  from  association  ;  but  yet  the  feeling,  the 
interest,  comes  v/ithout  definite  associative  links. 

Definition  of  Interest.  A  thread  of  common  value 
may  now  be  detected  running  through  the  complex 
phenomena  of  interest.  Objects  are  interesting  only  as 
they  affect  us  or  are  associated  with  objects  that  afiect 
us.  And  by  the  phrase  "  affect  us,"  we  mean — work  some 
change  in  the  sensibility,  which  tends,  by  the  law  of 
motor-reaction,  to  realize  itself  in  activity.  Given  such 
a  modification  of  the  affective  consciousness,  and  interest 
invariably  arises. 

Now,  such  affective  modifications  may  come  in  two 
ways.  The  two  great  stimuli  to  activity  are  pleasure 
and  pain  on  the  one  hand,  and  suggestion  on  the  other.' 
Suggestion  is  passing,  shifting,  temporary :  the  interest 
it  arouses  is  intellectual,  temporary  interest.  But 
pleasure  and  pain,  in  all  their  range,  represent  the  con- 
stitutional and  permanent.  As  stimuli  to  movement,  they 
are  recurrent.  And  the  interests  they  arouse  are  the 
deep-seated  life-interests  already  examined.  The  ordi- 
nary distinction  between  interest  and  interests  is  accord- 
iiigly  j^ist. 

The  common  element,  further,  is  an  impulsive  element 

the  case  may  be  put  thus:  When  two  ideas  are  repeatedly  associated, 
interest  in  one  passes  over  to  the  other,  and  when  an  idea  excites  interest 
those  ideas  will  get  associated  with  it  which  are  suited  to  share  or 
gratify  the  interest. 

'  See  below,  Chap.  XIII.  §  3. 


INTERESTS   VS.   AFFECTS.  147 

— a  tendency  element — realizing  its  object  through  the  at- 
tention, which  is  the  vehicle  of  apperception.  Accord- 
ingly, in  view  of  all  that  has  been  said,  we  may  define 
interest  as  the  impulse  to  attend.  And  since  it  is  in  the 
attention  that  all  mental  synthesis  takes  place,  we  may 
say,  as  an  alternative  statement,  that  interest  is  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  tendency  to  think.  The  amount  of  interest 
an  object  or  topic  will  haA'e  for  ns  at  any  time  is  the 
amount  of  calling -out  force  it  exerts  upon  the  attention,  both 
by  direct  suggestion  and  by  association. 

Interest  as  Ideal  Emotion.  Consideration,  therefore, 
justifies  the  view  that  interest  is  the  subjective  side  of 
the  apperceptive  function.  Habit  diminishes  interest 
because  it  diminishes  the  intensity  and  energy  of  pre- 
sentative  construction ;  but  habit  begets  interest  because 
it  makes  deep  and  strong  the  lines  of  associative  or 
representative  construction.  By  repetition,  simple  sug- 
gestions lose  their  force  ;  but  by  repetition  the  moving 
principles  of  our  nature  gain  force  as  stimuli  to  the  re- 
lating process  of  attention. 

The  place  of  interest  in  the  mental  life  has  remained 
anomalous  ;  it  has  had  no  adequate  discussion  from  psycholo- 
gists. It  has  been  treated,  on  tlie  one  hand,  as  a  stimuhis  to 
thought,  itself  arising  independently  of  thought;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  as  the  result  of  thought  or  attention.  We  are  in  a 
position  to  see  that  both  are  true.  If  the  simple  movements  of 
attention  under  the  lead  of  suggestion  arouse  interest,  then 
it  must  be  called  an  accompaniment  or  result  of  attention. 
But  if  it  is  through  interest  that  affective  modifications  get  an 
outlet  through  the  attention,  then  interest,  before  only  ex- 
ploring, becomes  an  essential  stimulus  to  voluntary  thought. 
In  general,  involuntary  attention  follows  the  lead  of  interest 
of  exploration,  and  voluntary  attention  requires  the  stimulus 
of  emotional  and  active  interest. 

But  heretofore  theories  of  interest  have  not  been  well 
developed.  The  Herbartians  reduce  it,  like  all  feeling,  to  a 
consciousness  of  relations  among  ideas.  Volkmann  defines 
it '  as  the  "  relation  of  an  idea  to  the  group  of  ideas  which 

'  Lehrbuch  d.  Psycholofjie,  3d  ed.,  ii.  p.  203. 


148  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

represents  the  ego. . . .  Everything  interests  me  of  which  I  can 
say:  I  am  in  it  {icli  bi?i  dahei)."  But  this  clearly  omits  tlie 
simple  interest  of  exploration.  Steinthal '  agrees  with  Volk- 
mann,  saying  interest  is  the  "readiness  of  a  group  of  ideas  to 
assimilate  a  new  idea."  Ulrici  and  Fortlage  emphasize  the 
impulse  side  of  interest.  Sully  has  good,  but  somewhat  loose, 
descriptive  remarks  on  interest.'  The  Hegelian  view  is  stated 
concisely  by  George.' 

Interests  vs.  Affects.  Bj  affects  are  meant  all  stimuli 
to  involuntary  attention :  *  by  interests,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  mean  all  stimuli  to  voluntary  attention.  The 
passage  from  affects  to  interests  is  the  passage  from  the 
passive  and  reactive  to  the  voluntary  consciousness — 
the  passage  from  consciousness  which  has  no  object 
before  it,  as  such,  to  the  consciousness  whicli  has  such 
an  object.  In  interests,  therefore,  we  have  a  step  in 
mental  growth  of  enormous  significance  in  psychological 
theory.  Affects  draw  the  attention  mechanically.  As 
far  as  they  are  concerned,  we  have  ground  only  for  an 
effect  theory  of  the  mental  principle.  Is  the  case  differ- 
ent with  interests?  Have  we  any  new  and  different 
factors  in  the  problem  when  an  object  is  pictured,  found 
interesting,  and  intentionally  pursued  ?  These  questions 
it  is  our  business  to  answer  later :  the  fact  here  must 
suffice  that  interest  attaches  to  something  presented,  and 
leads  to  what  we  call  volition  to  pursue  it. 

§2.  Reality-feeling. 

The  fundamental  question  of  philosophy  is  :  What  is 
real  ?  Is  there  reality  anywhere  ?  Psychology  has  to 
do  with  this  question  only  as  far  as  to  determine  ivhat  we 

'  Psychologie  u.  Sprachwissenscfiaft,  p.  330. 

"^  Outlines,  pp.  83-87.    For  educational  applications  see  the  works  on 
Pedagogics,  Appendix  A,  below. 
2  Lehrbuch  d.  Psychologie,  p.  544  ff . 
*  Below,  Cliap.  XIII.  §  3. 


REALIT7-FEELIN0.  149 

mean  by  the  sense  of  reality.  Admitting  a  distinction  in 
consciousness  between  ideas  to  which  we  attribute  reality 
and  those  to  which  we  do  not,  we  note  the  different  sub- 
jective effects  which  the  two  sorts  of  ideas  have  on  us : 
the  presence  of  one  sort  is  the  feeling  of  reality  ;  of  the 
other,  that  of  unreality. 

Distinction  between  Belief  and  Sense  of  Reality.  With- 
out entering  at  this  point  into  the  grounds  of  the  distinc- 
tion, two  different  sorts  of  feeling  may  be  denoted  by  the 
terms  reality -feeling  and  belief.  The  phrase  reality- 
feeling  denotes  the  fundamental  modification  of  con- 
sciousness which  attaches  to  the  presentative  side  of 
sensational  states — the  feeling  which  means,  as  the  child 
afterwards  learns,  that  an  object  is  really  there.  By  the 
word  belief,  on  the  other  hand,  we  may  denote  the  feel- 
ing which  attaches  to  what  may  be  a  secondary  or 
representative  state  of  mind,  and  indicates  the  amount 
of  assurance  we  have  at  the  time  that  an  object  is  there. 
The  idea  which  has  the  reality-feeling  may  be  said  to 
have  its  own  guarantee  of  its  reality ;  it  is  a  given,  and 
my  feeling  of  it  is  direct  acquaintance  with  it.  But  the 
idea  to  which  belief  attaches  is  guaranteed  by  some 
other  mental  state,  by  what  I  know  about  it,  or  by  its 
connection  with  ideas  already  guaranteed.  This  distinc- 
tion and  its  bearings  will  become  clear  as  the  exposition 
proceeds. 

To  the  mind  of  the  writer  this  distinction  is  a  fundamen- 
tal and  vital  one.  Yet  it  lias,  as  far  as  ho  knows,  been  made 
nowhere  in  psychological  literature.  Its  successi'ul  establish- 
ment is,  of  course,  the  task  of  the  following  pages.  Begin- 
ning witli  the  earliest  reality-feeling  in  infancy,  we  shall 
endeavor  to  show  how  it  becomes  the  complex,  and  to  the 
psycliologist  refractory,  thing  known  as  belief. 

Bise  of  Reality-foeling.  The  dawning  consciousness 
of  a  child — passive  consciousness,  as  it  has  already  been 


150  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

called — is  filled  with  affective  sensational  happenings. 
All  it  has  at  first  is  feeling,  and  feeling  of  one  kind. 
This  feeling  has  no  meaning  whatever  of  any  kind ;  for 
by  meaning  we  mean  interpretation  in  terms  of  some- 
thing else,  and  there  is  nothing  else.  Hence  it  is  not 
the  "  taking  of  a  representation  for  an  object,"  as  Rabier 
says.'  The  flash  of  light,  the  muscular  sensation,  the 
pain,  each  is  simply  tliis,  an  experience.  There  can  be 
no  distinction  corresponding  to  reality  and  unreality^ 
inner  and  outer,  subject  and  object,  presentation  and 
representation. 

Eeality-feeling,  therefore,  at  this  early  stage,  is  sim- 
ply the  fact  of  feeling ;  nothing  more,  but  this  much. 
Existence  is  simply  presence  ;  but  presence  is  existence, 
and  whatever  is,  in  consciousness,  is  real. 

James  expresses  this  truth  as  follows  :  "  The  candle 
(first  sensation)  is  its  (the  infant's)  all,  its  absolute.  Its 
entire  faculty  of  attention  is  absorbed  by  it.  It  is,  it  is 
that;  it  is  tliere;  no  other  possible  candle  or  quality  of 
this  candle,  no  other  possible  place  or  possible  object 
in  the  place, — no  alternative,  in  short,  suggests  itself  as 
even  conceivable ;  so  how  can  the  mind  help  believing 
[feeling]  the  candle  real  ?  The  supposition  that  it  might 
possibly  not  do  so  is  under  the  supposed  conditions 
unintelligible."  " 

Now  this  feeling  of  presence  or  reality  is  not  belief;  and 
we  have  put  "  feeling"  in  brackets  above,  after  "  believing," 
since  Prof.  James  overlooks  the  distinction.  He  is  guilty  of 
the  "psychologist's  fallacy"  in  saying  "any  object  which 
remains  uncontradicted  is  ipso  facto  posited  [or  affirmed]  as 
reality." '  Positing  or  affirming  must  carry  a  distinction  in 
consciousness  between  the  true  and  the  untrue.  If  this  feel- 
ing of  "presence"  is  belief,  then  some  other  name  should  be 
found   for   the  complex  thing   which    we  go  on  to  describe 

'  Ps-ycJiologie,  3cl  ed.,  p.  267. 
*  Principles  of  Psych.,  ii.  288. 
3  Loc.  cit.,  II.  289  and  319. 


UNREALITY-FEELING.  151 

in  the  pages  that  follow.  In  dreams  the  simple  reality- 
feeling  is  present  without  belief,  as  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
the  grossest  inconsistencies  are  accepted.  This  simply  shows 
that  consciousness  has  lost  its  questioning  attitude  altogether 
— belief  as  such  does  not  arise:  but  reality  is  there  in  its  full 
strength.* 

Rise  of  Unreality-feeling.  Further,  the  early  con- 
sciousness soon  experiences  something  quite  different 
from  this  feeling  of  presence.  As  soon  as  appetite  and 
impulse  assert  themselves,  thej  are  felt;  indeed  tliey 
make  the  keenest  demands  upon  the  early  sensibility. 
As  we  adults  look  at  it,  it  is  a  feeling  of  lack,  want,  need  ; 
but  to  the  infant  it  is  simply  a  feeling,  and  a  new  one. 
But  this  new  feeling  must  very  quickly  get  connected 
with  the  reality-  or  presence-feeling  :  say  the  sensation 
of  the  white  surface  and  warm  touch  of  the  milk-bottle, 
as  following  upon  -the  lack  of  food.  In  other  words,  a 
simple  presence-feeling  becomes  connected  with  a  simple 
afesewce-feeling.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  two  come 
together,  and  it  is  perhaps  the  earliest  felt  distinction 
in  the  infant  consciousness, — vague  hunger-feeling,  pres- 
ence-feeling of  taste  and  touch,  absence-feeling  when 
the  supply  is  cut  off.  This  absence-feeling  is  the  first 
and  original  unreality -feeling. 

Closer  examination  again  shows  us  that  this  unreal- 
ity-feeling has  nothing  to  do  with  a  negation  of  belief; 
with  doubt  or  hesitation,  the  true  negation  of  belief.  If 
the  sense  of  unreality  arose  as  a  contradiction  of  the 
sense  of  reality,  there  would  be  some  justification  for 
this  view.  But  in  that  case  we  would  not  have  a  sense 
of  unreality,  but  a  sense  of  the  reality  of  a  new  and 
contradictory    experience.        For    example,    the    early 

'  Baiu  recognizes  this  slate;  but  in  calliiitr  it  "primitive  credulity," 
as  well  as  in  treating  it  as  a  form  of  heiief,  lie  fails  to  note  the  essential 
element  of  true  belief,  i.e.,  mental  assertion,  which  is  absent  in  this 
simple  reality-feeling.     Emotions  and  Will,  pp.  510-515. 


152  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

consciousness  lias  a  single  candle  before  it — a  reality-feel- 
ing. Suddenly  the  candle  goes  out.  Darkness  is  now 
a  new  reality-feeling.  A  memory  of  the  candle  persists 
and  conflicts  with  the  present  darkness,  and  a  new  feel- 
ing arises, — doubt,  perplexity — the  foundation  of  belief^ 
as  appears  below.  But  the  unreality-feeling  has  an 
entirely  difierent  origin — in  our  active  impulsive  nature. 
It  comes  before  there  is  any  conflict,  and  lingers  after 
such  a  conflict,  distinct  from  the  feeling  to  which  this 
conflict  gives  rise. 

Degrees  of  Reality-  and  Unreality-feeling.  Both  of 
these  original  forms  of  feeling  must  have  degrees.  Not 
only  to  the  child  is  the  reality  of  food  more  intense  and 
consuming  when  it  is  hungry  than  when  it  is  filled,  but 
to  the  mature  man  there  are  realities  and  realities.  Every 
one  of  us  has  his  true  reality,  his  real  and  eternal  as 
opposed  to  his  unreal  and  temporal.  Even  external 
things  sometimes  seem  to  bruise  and  wound  us,  so  hard 
and  stubborn  does  their  reality  become ;  and  again,  all 
the  world  seems  thin,  flimsy,  and  unsubstantial.  We  be- 
lieve many  a  fact  of  which  we  fail  to  get  a  "  realizing 
sense."  Simple  conditions  of  the  nervous  system  derange 
our  sense  of  reality  :  and  emotional  conditions  suffice  to 
infuse  body  into  our  life-experiences  or  to  render  them 
ghosts  of  profitless  pursuit.  Confining  ourselves,  how- 
ever, now  to  the  infant's  life,  we  may  say  that  his  most 
vivid  realities  are  those  sensational  states  which  satisfy 
his  appetites  and  needs. 

All  this  class  of  experiences  again  confirms  the  separation 
of  these  feelings  from  real  phenomena  of  belief.  Ask  an 
intelligent  man  at  random  if  he  believes  that  four  thousand 
people  perished  at  the  Johnstown  flood,  and  he  will  say  yes; 
then  ask  an  ej^e  witness  of  that  awful  calamity,  one  who 
helped  stretch  out  a  hundred  dead,  and  how  much  more  his 
**yes"  really  means  !  But  both  believe  the  facts  of  the  case 
fully.     One  has  a  feeling  of  reality  which  the  other  quite 


PEYSIOLOGT  OF  BEALITT-FEELING.  153 

lacks.  It  is  this  feeling  element  of  present  reality  that  enters 
largely  into  religions  faith,  and  is  contrasted  with  intellec- 
tnal  assent.  "  The  devils  believe,"  bnt  the  religious  man  is 
to  realize  his  belief  in  that  warmth  of  emotion  which  kindles 
active  devotion. 

Physiological  Basis  of  the  Reality-  and  Unreality- feel- 
ings. The  organic  basis  of  these  feelings,  it  is  easy  to 
see,  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  organic  basis  of 
consciousness  itself.  Any  sensory^  process  has  its  feel- 
ing of  reality  element,  and  any  tendency  to  movement 
has  its  unreality-feeling,  succeeded  by  reality-feeling, 
in  the  sensory  process  which  satisfies  it.  Further,  this 
feeling  of  need  must  arise  from  a  lack  of  sufficient  stim- 
ulation in  the  sensory  seat,  which  lack  is  itself  a  stimulus 
to  the  motor-process  by  which  the  lack  is  supplied  ;  the 
connection  between  the  two  processes  being  fixed  by 
heredity  and  experience. 

Looked  at  more  broadly,  here  is  an  organism  in  a 
world  of  environing  conditions ;  a  certain  sensational 
process  represents  its  best  life  among  these  conditions. 
"When  it  fails  of  this  normal  sensational  process,  its  very 
lack  is  a  stimulus  to  a  motor-process  by  which  the  nor- 
mal sensational  process  is  re-established.  Assuming 
this  normal  sensational  process,  w'hatever  it  may  turn 
out  to  be,  let  us  call  it  the  sensational  coefficient.  By  this 
phrase  is  then  meant  the  element  of  nervous  activity 
which,  being  present,  gives  a  sensation :  over  and  above 
the  activity  which  gives  a  memory-picture  or  arouses  an 
impulse.  The  sensational  coefficient  is  the  activity  which 
is  regularly  aroused  by  a  real  object. 

In  this  feeling  of  reality  we  find  the  mental  "predis- 
position to  illusion"  referred  to  in  a  previous  chapter.' 
If  the  presence  of  the  sensational  coefficient  gives  "real  " 
coloring  to  a  conscious  state,  then,  whenever  this  coeffi- 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  253, 


154  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

cient  is  present,  reality  is  reached.  But  if,  by  reason 
of  undue  excitability  from  disease,  emotion,  expectation, 
or  otlier  internal  causes,  this  coefficient  is  artificially 
brought  about  when  no  reality  corresponds,  then  illu- 
sion results. 

Time  and  Space  Reference  of  Reality-feeling.  As 
soon  as  memory  begins  its  function,  the  data  are  present 
for  the  construction  of  the  time-notion  ;  and  the  three 
temporal  aspects  of  events,  as  present,  past,  and  future, 
give  coloring  to  the  reality-feeling.  The  feeling  of  recog- 
nition '  arises  when  the  reconstruction  of  past  experience 
takes  place,  whether  that  reconstruction  represent  real 
events  or  not.  That  is,  recognition  is  independent  of  be- 
lief in  the  external  reality  of  what  we  recognize.  The 
feeling  of  presence  again  becomes  the  feeling  of  present 
time  filled  with  events  ;  and  the  construction  of  further 
experience  as  possible  in  the  future  gives  the  feeling  of 
expectation. 

The  early  quality  of  massiveness  or  extensity  in  sen- 
sations' is  a  feeling  which  accompanies  the  earliest  con- 
struction of  the  spacial  form  in  experience.  It  seems,  in 
connection  with  some  sensations,  to  partake  of  the  three 
dimensions,  i.e.,  feeling  of  largeness,  rooininess,  bigness,  of 
sounds,  muscular  movements,  touches,  etc.  These  feel- 
ings represent  the  earliest  and  most  incomplete  form  of 
temporal  and  spacial  synthesis ;  they  are  limited  to 
actual  experience  and  its  promise,  and  are  altogether 
earlier  than  the  developed  ideas  of  time  and  space. 

Our  general  outcome  so  far  is,  accordingly,  this  :  tJie 
feeling  of  reality  is  simply  consciousness  itself ;  it  is  most 
vivid  ivhen  it  accompanies  a  nervous  process  having  the  sen- 
sational coefficient.  The  feeling  of  unreality  arises  in  con- 
nection ivith  appetites  and   impulses  ivhich  result  from  the 


'  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  x.  §  1. 
^  IMd.,  p.  109;  also  see  above,  p.  98. 


BELIEF.  155 

absence  of  the  sensational  coefficient  in  particular  sensoi^y 
brain-seats.  This  may  be  called  the  first  stage  in  the  de- 
Telopment  of  the  consciousness  of  reality. 

§  3.  Belief. 

The  feeling  of  belief  is  a  feeling  which  attaches  to 
the  representative  faculty  primarily.  It  is  only  when 
memory  and  imagination  come  to  bring  up  rival  candi- 
dates for  our  acceptance,  that  we  believe  or  disbelieve. 
The  foregoing  discussion  suffices  to  show  that  something 
else  must  be  added  to  the  simple  feelings  of  reality  and 
unreality,  as  these  arise  in  connection  with  sensations,  to 
constitute  true  belief.  The  question  of  belief,  put  most 
broadl}-,  is  this  :  Why  is  it  that,  of  two  images  which 
come  into  my  consciousness,  I  discard  the  one  as  an  im- 
agination, a  phantasm,  and  accept  the  other  as  a  memory 
or  present  fact  ? 

Again  it  is  needless  to  say  that,  as  a  feeling,  belief  cannot 
be  explained  any  more  than  any  other  feeling;  it  must  be 
felt;  and  that  further  remarks  are  really  upon  the  physio- 
logical and  psychical  conditions  under  which  this  feeling  arises. 

Doubt  Precedes  Belief.  It  was  said  above  that  the 
unreality-feeling  comes,  in  cases  of  appetite,  to  oppose 
the  simple  reality-feeling  of  presentation  or  memory.  The 
reality-feeling  doubtless  attaches  at  first  to  a  memory  of 
a  candle  as  to  a  real  candle,  and  nothing  contradicts  it. 
But,  with  other  memories,  this  realitj'-feeling  is  rudely 
disturbed.  The  memory  of  food  suggested  to  an  infant 
by  vain  sucking  at  an  empty  bottle  no  longer  has  the 
reality-feeling.  Unreality  takes  its  place.  So  certain 
memories  get  labelled  as  unreal.  And  it  is  the  discovery 
of  this  possible  unreality — the  discovery  of  the  possible 
absence  of  the  sensational  coefficient,  as  the  impulse- 
satisfying  thing — that  is  the  beginning  of  doubt.' 

'"Only  experieuce — and  that  means  disappointment — emphasizes 


156  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

That  this  is  not  theoretical  only  is  proved  from  the  ob- 
servation of  young  children.  They  have  implicit  confidence 
in  everything  at  first,  but  soon  a  stage  is  reached  of  hesitation 
and  doubt.  Unaccustomed  things  have  so  often  brought 
pain,  that  the  new — the  strange  face,  tlie  unusual  expression 
of  a  familiar  face,  a  new  room,  a  new  plaything — are  treated 
cautiously  and  with  manifest  distrust.  The  question  is  : 
Can  I  trust  the  new  image  to  satisfy  my  impulse  toward  it  ? 

Development  of  Doubt.  As  the  rise  of  doubt  is  due 
in  child-life  to  the  failure  of  a  state  to  satisfy  ;  to  the  ab- 
sence of  the  sensational  coefficient :  so  all  higher  doubt 
can  be  traced  to  like  conditions.  I  doubt  an  image,  a 
statement,  a  law,  because  it  does  not  meet  the  demands 
that  I  have  a  right  to  make  of  it  if  its  claim  be  true. 
Just  as  there  is  a  sensational  coefficient,  so  there  is  an 
aesthetic  coefficient,  a  moral,  and  an  intellectual  coeffi- 
cient,— that  quality  in  each  of  these  fields  which  satisfies 
the  demands  of  my  nature  in  these  directions  severally. 
I  doubt  that  a  face  can  be  called  beautiful,  because  my 
aesthetic  sense  is  not  satisfied  with  it.  I  doubt  whether 
tuberculine  cures  consumption,  because  my  logical  sense 
is  not  satisfied  with  the  evidence  ;  and  so  on  everywhere. 

There  are  a  great  many  things  in  our  lives  which  never  pass 
into  the  stage  of  doubt  or  belief  at  all;  thiugs  which  remain 
under  the  rule  of  the  simple  sense  of  reality.  My  mother's 
love,  for  example,  is  a  thing  in  whicli  I  cannot  be  said  to  be- 
lieve. It  was  one  of  the  first  realities  of  which  I  became 
sensible.  My  reality-feeling  in  reference  to  her  has  never 
been  disturbed  one  way  or  the  other,  and  so  it  has  remained 
undoubted  and  unasserted.  So  it  is  with  the  religious  truth 
in  which  one  is  reared.  It  is  a  shock  to  the  sensibilities  to 
ask  the  question,  Do  you  believe  ?  for  the  first  time;  it  sug- 
gests the  possibility  of  doubt,  and  puts  us  under  the  necessity 
of  turning  simple  reality  into  grounded  belief.  But  of  other 
people  than  my  mother — my  books,  say;  and  of  other  truth 
than  religion — my  history  lesson,  say, — I  make  certain  de- 

the  difference  between  the  possible  and  tlie  actual."    Hoffding,  Outlines 
of  PsycJwlogy,  p.  236. 


DOUBT.  157 

mandsj  and  condition  what  is  truly  belief  upon  the  way  these 
demands  are  met. 

What  the  higher  demands  are  which  I  have  a  right  to 
make  of  jestlietic,  logical,  and  religious  truth,  in  order  to 
award  my  belief,  that  remains  for  later  consideration.  Here 
it  is  enough  to  show  that  the  law  of  "  satisfaction  "  is  one 
throughout. 

Resolution  of  Doubt.  As  doubt  arises  from  the  atti- 
tude of  mind  toward  a  new  image,  so  doubt  is  resolved 
by  an  actual  resort  to  experience,  as  far  as  that  is  pos- 
sible. In  the  case  of  sensible  things,  we  try  and  see 
whether  the  image  have  the  sensational  coefficient.  If 
the  child  has  once  been  fooled  by  an  empty  bottle,  it 
doubts  the  bottle  at  its  next  appearance.  But  its  method 
of  testing  it  is  always  the  same  :  it  tries  it.  Does  it  get 
the  needful  sensation  ? — then  reality  is  there  ;  if  not, 
then  not.  In  all  kinds  of  belief  there  are  such  tests,  as 
appears  more  fully  below. 

Nature  of  Belief.  Now  the  feeling  which  follows  in 
every  case  is  a  feeling  of  resolved  doubt ;  it  is  not  the 
simple  feeling  of  reality  which  prevailed  before  the 
doubt,  or  of  unreality  as  unsatisfied  need.  It  is  a  larger, 
freer,  fuller  state  of  mind.  It  is  belief  smd  disbelief,  or, 
better,  positive  belief  and  negative  belief ;  for  the  two 
are  one  state  of  mind.  And  the  opposite  of  belief  is 
doubt,  as  has  been  seen.' 

One  only  has  to  question  himself  with  ordinary  care 
to  find  the  truth  of  this  result.  The  very  word  belief 
brings  up  suggestions  of  uncertainty.  The  mental  side 
of  this  state  cannot  be  separated  from  the  inheritance 
of  associates  which  swing  down  the  tide  of  conscious- 
ness to  attach  themselves  to  it.  As  long  as  I  am  un- 
aware of  the  real  force  of  a  thing,  its  sensational,  emo- 

'  The  word  belief  is  hereafter  iiscrl  to  cover  both  belief  and  dis- 
belief ;  the  latter  beiii;^  efiuiviilent  to  belief  in  somelhiug  whieh  uegates 
that  whieh  is  disbelieved. 


158  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

tional,  or  convincing  quality,  I  simply  let  it  pass.  There 
are  thousands  of  things  about  us,  social  conventions,  red- 
tape  enactments,  customs  of  dress  and  daily  habit,  which 
I  conform  to  because  they  are  not  worth  the  trouble  of  a 
more  serious  attitude  of  mind.  But  what  I  believe  has 
its  pros  and  cons  ;  and  however  vaguely,  still  really,  I  am 
better  satisfied  with  the  pros  than  with  the  cons.  Now 
for  the  first  time,  therefore,  we  have  belief.  And  from 
the  foregoing  its  conditions  are  more  or  less  plain.  Of 
belief  in  sensible  things,  the  following  remarks  may  be 
made. 

1.  It  results  from  tJie  presence  of  a  sensational  coefficient 
after  its  felt  absence.  We  say  felt  absence,  for  simple  ab- 
sence, followed  by  presence,  means  simple  unreality  fol- 
lowed by  reality-feeling,  with  no  belief  at  all.  But  when 
the  absence  of  a  coefficient  is  felt,  then  its  incoming 
presence  leads  to  that  mental  affirmation  of  it  which  is 
belief. 

2.  It  results  from  the  satisfaction  of  an  impulse  ivJiich 
terminates  in  a  sensational  coefficient.  By  impulse  is  meant 
any  practical  need  which  brings  an  image  to  the  sensa- 
tional test. 

3.  It  is  a  feeling  of  confirmation  and  security  over  and 
above  tliefeeliiig  of  simple  reality.  This  is  what  is  meant 
in  the  discussion  below  by  the  will  element  in  belief.  It 
is  the  distinct  feeling  of  ratification  which  I  myself  give 
to  reality  by  being  satisfied  with  it.  I  consent  to  it. 
Without  anticipating  details  which  are  not  necessary 
here,  sensuous  belief,  and  by  implication  all  belief  with 
it,  may  be  defined  as  consciousness  of  tJie  personal  indorse- 
ment of  reality. 

Accordingly  Brentano '  strikes  the  real  point  of  impor- 
tance in  using  the  word  judgment  ( Uriheil)  to  mean  belief. 

'  Psychologie  vom  emp.  Standpunkte.  So  also  Lipps,  as  I  understand 
him,  who  gives  as  definition  of  Urtheil,  "  presentation  with  the  con- 


KINDS  OF  BELIEF.  159 

Judgment  is  the  assertion  of  the  consistency  of  concepts,  or 
of  conception  with  reality.  Belief  is  the  subjective  or  feeling 
side  of  such  assertion.  Inasmuch,  however,  as  it  has  seemed 
necessary  to  deny  judgment  proper  to  the  kinds  of  synthesis 
which  are  not  assertive  in  form  {a  =  5),'  I  cannot  follow  Bren- 
tano  in  his  use  of  the  word  judgment.  There  are  many  be- 
liefs— in  the  external  world,  in  memory,  etc. — which  are  not 
formally  assertive,  i.e.,  not  judgments. 

Heaction  of  Belief  on  Reality.  This  may  be  called 
the  second  stage  ^  in  the  development  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  reality  :  the  simple  reality-feeling  has  passed 
into  belief.  Belief  then  becomes  the  test  of  reality. 
We  turn  back  ruthlessly  upon  all  we  have  accepted,  and 
see  whether  it  will  stand  the  tests  of  reality  at  this  second 
stage  ;  whether  it  is  meeting  the  full  demands  which  our 
credence  makes  upon  it.  Realities  to  me  then  become 
what  I  believe,  and  what  I  believe  is  what  meets  the 
requirement  of  my  life. 

Kinds  of  Belief.  Broadening  our  outlook,  we  are  able 
to  distinguish  several  aspects  or  phases  of  this  feeling, 
which  we  may  call  respectively  belief  in  the  external  ivorld, 
belief  in  memory,  logical  belief,  belief  in  ideals,  etc.  The 
general  theory  already  set  forth  leads  us  to  see  that  in 
each  case  there  must  be  an  impulse  or  tendency  to  a 
particular  kind  of  experience,  and  that  the  reality  of 
that  experience  must  depend  upon  its  capacity  to  satisfy 
the  tendency  involved.  Calling,  in  each  case,  this  ability 
to  satisfy,  the  coefficient,  we  have  as  many  coefficients 


sciousness  of  reality  "  (of  any  kind,  Wirklichkeit),  Ch-undthaisachen  des 
Seeieniebens,  p.  396  II. 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  286. 

'In  the  words  of  Hodgson,  "  existence  (belief)  {?■  a  second  intention, 
a  predication  about  the  phenomena  of  the  subjective  aspect.  The  ob- 
jective aspect  is  those  plienomena  plus  the  rellectioa — that  they  are 
phenomena."     Tlieory  of  Practice,  i.  p.  206. 


160  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

of  reality  as  there  are  fundamental  tendencies   toward 
objects.' 

§  4.  Belief  in  Exteknal  Reality. 

Its  Coeflacient.  A  few  more  words  may  be  said  about 
external  reality  as  contrasted  with  the  other  kinds  of 
reality  in  which  we  believe.  The  question  suggests 
itself :  What,  in  consciousness,  is  the  sensational  coeffi- 
cient ?  Granted  such  a  nervous  process  whenever  a  real 
object  is  present,  what  mental  changes  does  it  work  ? 

We  are  now  able  to  call  upon  the  determinations 
already  made  in  regard  to  the  grounds  of  illusion.' 
The  grounds  of  illusion  must  be  the  marks  which  give 
the  semblance,  the  coefficient,  of  reality.  Most  gener- 
ally speaking  they  are  two,  first  very  high  intensity '  and 
second  uncontroUableness.  Whenever  a  mental  state  is 
intense,  be  it  sensation  or  image,  and  resists  all  en- 
deavor of  ours  to  modify  or  banish  it,  it  carries  our 
belief,  it  is  real,  as  far  as  sensational  tests  are  con- 
cerned, i.e.,  as  far  as  the  sensational  coefficient  goes.  I 
may  often  have  grounds  for  distrusting  such  a  state — 
other  coefficients  which  I  invoke  as  of  more  worth  to 
me  in  deciding  the  case  than  the  sensational  tests ;  but 
if  I  had  only  the  latter,  if  I  were  merely  a  being 
of  sensations  and  reactions,  intense  persistent  states 
would  always  and  invariably  sum  up  reality  for  me. 

Of  these  two  elements  of  the  sensational  coefficient, 
the   latter   is   more   important    and   essential.     Simple 


'  The  question  of  "objectives  "  generally  (i.e.,  Why  is  it  that  men- 
tal states  have  objects  ?)  is  not  here  in  discussion.  Assuming  objectives 
or  presentations,  Hodgson's  "objective  aspect  "  and  Pikler's  objectiva, 
the  question  we  ask  is,  Why  is  it  that  some  of  them  are  accepted  and 
believed,  and  others  are  not? 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  xiii.  32. 

2  Emphasized  by  Hume,  Treatise,  part  m.  sects,  vii,  vrii. 


COEFFICIENT  OF  EXTERNAL  REALITY.  161 

reality-feeling  attaches  to  intense  and  feeble  images 
alike,  provided  no  impulse  arise  which  fails  to  find  its 
satisfaction  in  the  feeble  ones.  But  in  the  element  of 
uncontrollableness  we  have  a  confirmation  of  the  im- 
pulse origin  of  all  belief.  Our  impulses,  our  life-needs, 
are  fixed  and  permanent,  not  subject  to  our  will  or  con- 
trol :  so  are  their  satisfactions,  the  realities  we  have 
reached  in  our  life-experience.  "^^ 

Even  seeming  contradictions  in  such  sense-reports 
are  not  suflicient  in  themselves  to  controvert  belief.  Do 
I  hear  a  voice  when  my  eyes  tell  me  no  one  is  near — 
hear  it  with  its  coefiicient  of  reality  ?  Then  I  believe  it, 
and  believe  my  eyesight  too.  The  principle  of  consistency, 
of  such  supreme  importance  in  logical  belief,  has  only  a 
subordinate  application  here.  If  I  do  compare  my 
senses  and  judge  which  of  them  to  believe,  it  is  either 
because  one  or  more  of  them  has  not  the  energy  or  per- 
sistence of  others,  or  because  I  ajDpeal  to  higher  consid- 
erations— coeflicients — to  help  me  out.  In  actual  fact 
we  do  find  a  class  of  sensations  which  realizes  the  coeffi- 
cient most  directly  and  distinctly,  and  thus  becomes  the 
arbiter  or  referee  of  sensible  reality. 

Primacy  of  Muscular  Sensations  as  Giving  External 
Reality.  In  an  earlier  place,'  touch — with  muscular 
sensibility — was  called  the  "  controlling  sense,"  because 
questions  of  reality  are  referred  to  it  for  decision.  We 
now  see  why  this  is  so.  It  is  through  muscular  move- 
ment that  will  and  impulse  and  appetite,  that  all  out- 
going processes,  are  realized.  If  natural  satisfactions 
therefore  are  the  basis  of  belief  in  external  reality,  then 
the  medium  of  such  satisfactions  must  be  the  medium  also 
of  the  sense  of  reality.  And  further,  motor-reaction  is 
itself  an  impulsive,  original  thing,  and  takes  place 
largely   through    the    stimulus    of    resistance :    conse- 

^  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  97. 


162  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

quently  tlie  presence  of  resistances  is  itself  the  gratifi- 
cation of  the  need  of  motor-development — perhaps  the 
most  general  and  fundamental  sensational  need  that  we 
have.  If  we  could  get  satisfactions  without  muscular 
sensations,  then  the  latter  would  not  be  tests  of  external 
reality. 

Primary  Criterion  of  External  Reality.  Consequently 
it  is  only  what  we  would  expect  that  sensations  of  resist- 
ance become  the  primary  criterion  of  all  external  reality. 
Anything  that  resists  my  will  is  believed  to  have  present 
reality.  And  it  is  not  simply  resistance  through  contact, 
but,  by  generalization,  resistance  in  any  of  the  classes  of 
sensation.  A  stifling  smoke  resists  my  will  to  be  rid  of 
it,  that  is,  the  physiological  effort  I  make  to  banish  it 
shows  me  that  I  have  no  control  over  it.  But  that  this 
is  derived  from  muscular  resistance  is  seen  in  the  fact 
that  I  confirm  my  belief  derived  from  the  smell  of 
smoke  by  searching  the  house  to  find  the  fire. 

It  is  clear  that  it  is  the  element  of  jiresent  reality  in  the 
external  world  that  sensations  of  resistance  guarantee,  not, 
to  a  great  extent,  future  reality.  The  element  of  persist- 
ence in  the  world  without  depends  rather  upon  the  memory- 
coefficient,  to  be  next  discussed.  Persistence  comes  through 
the  sensational  coefficient  only  as  far  as  resistances  have 
duration,  i.e.,  stand  constant  in  opposition  to  prolonged  effort 
or  in  gratification  of  prolonged  appetite.  There  is  also 
probably  an  element  contributory  to  the  notion  of  persist- 
ence, in  the  accidental  recurrence  of  old  resistances  when  we 
do  not  expect  them;'  but  such  accidental  anti-associational 
occurrences  also  come  in  the  shape  of  pure  imaginations,  and 
the  test  of  present  resistance  is  the  final  appeal  in  cases  of 
such  unexpected  experiences. 

To  the  objection  that  pure  imaginations  may  have  the 
quality  of  uncontrollableness  (fixed  ideas),  it  may  be  pointed 
out  that  in  most  cases  they  cannot  stand  the  test  of  actual 
muscular  resistance,  and  that  when  they  are  abnormally  im- 


Urged  by  Stout,  Mind,  xv,  art.  Cognition  of  Physical  Reality. 


MEMORY-COEFFICIENT  OF  REALITY.  163 

perative  they  are  considered  as  realities,  i.e.,  we  have  the 
begiuniug  of  delusion. 

§  5.  Belief  in  Memory. 

The  Memory-coefficient.  By  memory-coefficient  is 
meant  the  coloring  of  reality  Avliicli  some  images  have, 
as  representing  former  states  of  consciousness  :  that  by 
which  I  distinguish  a  memory  from  a  dream  or  a  crea- 
ture of  the  imagination.  In  general  terms,  it  is  the 
question  of  recognition  over  again.  Belief  in  memory  is 
the  feeling  which  attaches  to  images  recognized  ;  and  as 
recognition  has  been  seen  to  rest  in  the  diminished  ex- 
penditure of  attention  involved  in  the  reinstatement  of 
an  act  of  apperception,  we  have  here  a  sufficient  state- 
ment of  the  intellectual  conditions  of  the  feeling  of 
mem  ory-r  e  ality . ' 

As  feeling,  however,  two  very  distinct  forms  of  reality- 
consciousness  attach  to  memory :  first,  what  we  may 
call  the  simple  sense  of  revival  or  recurrence,  and 
second,  the  belief  that  what  is  thus  recognized  was 
itself  a  real  objective  experience.  I  may  remember  a 
dream,  recognize  it,  and  believe  in  it  as  a  real  memory, 
and  yet  be  in  doubt  as  to  whether  it  was  a  dream  or  a 
real  occurrence  when  I  first  experienced  it. 

The  memory-coefficient  of  belief  attaches  properly 
only  to  the  first  of  these  states :  it  answers  the  ques- 
tion, What  shall  I  recognize  ?  The  further  point  of  feel- 
ing— that  which  attaches  to  the  answer  to  the  question. 
Is  what  I  recognize  a  reality  ? — requires  further  inquiry 
into  the  nature  of  the  memory  in  question.  Does  the 
memory  recognized  include  memory  of  the  sensational 
coefficient  ?  Did  I  believe  it  to  be  a  real  object  when  I 
first  experienced  it  ?  This  question  determines  whether 
I  shall  feel  it  to  be  the  memory  of  an  objective  thing  or 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  chup.  x.  §  1. 


164  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

no.  So  with  any  other  of  the  higher  kinds  of  reality- 
coefficients  yet  to  be  spoken  of.  Do  I  recognize  a 
former  image  of  a  beautiful  face  ?  Yes :  but  do  I 
recognize  it  as  a  living  beautiful  face  ?  That  depends 
upon  the  kind  of  coefficient,  sensational,  imaginary, 
aesthetic,  etc.,  of  my  earlier  view  of  the  face.  The 
dependence  of  belief  in  many  cases  upon  the  sensa- 
tional coefficient  is  well  ^\\i  by  Hume  in  his  definition  of 
belief  as  "  a  lively  idea  related  to'  or  associated  with  a 
present  impression  (sensation)."  *  He  also  points  out 
that  false  images  may  get  the  sensational  coefficient  by 
repetition  and  emphasis.^ 

A  further  refinement  leads  to  a  distinction  between  the 
recognition  which  has  already  been  described  as  simple  re- 
ality-feeling as  it  attaches  to  revived  experiences,  and  recog- 
nition as  a  form  of  belief,  i.e.,  as  conscious  reasoned  recogni- 
tion. Often  one  is  not  satisfied  that  he  recognizes  a  situation 
till  he  passes  the  associative  connections  before  him  con- 
sciously. The  peculiar  illusion  of  being  in  a  familiar  place 
is  simple  reality-recognition,  which  we  are  unable  to  make 
reasonable  as  belief  by  supplying  the  missing  elements.  But 
both  of  these  kinds  of  recognition  must  be  strongly  distin- 
guished from  the  recognition  of  external  reality. 

Memory-coeflacient  Proper.  The  question  then.  Why 
do  I  recognize  anything  consciously  at  all? — has  its 
answer  in  the  memory-coefficient  proper,  viz.,  hecause  1 
can  reprodtice  it  voluntarily  by  starting  a  chain  of  as- 
sociations leading  up  to  it.  I  have  control  over  it  in 
this  sense,  that  it  is  at  my  command  for  reproduction. 
My  past  is  mine  only  in  as  far  as  I  can  utilize  it  in  my 
present.  I  refresh  my  memory  by  rehearsing  details, 
and  thus  bringing  up  points  which,  if  simply  suggested 
to  me  without  their  earlier  connections,  I  might  have 
failed  to  recognize.     So  we  reach  two  kinds  of  present 


'  Treatise,  pt.  iii.  §  7. 
'^  Loc.  cit.,  pt.  III.  §  5. 


CRITERION  OF  EXTERNAL  REALITY.  165 

reality  :  present  external  realit}',  guaranteed  by  its  inde- 
pendence of  my  will,  and  present  memory-reality,  guar- 
anteed by  subjection  to  my  will. 

Moreover,  there  are  further  modifications  of  memories 
due  to  volition.  We  can  by  attention  bring  out  details  of 
outline,  strengthen,  inteusify,  or,  by  neglecting,  practically 
banish  a  memory  :  all  of  which  influences  external  things 
stubbornly  resist. 

Completed  Criterion  of  External  Reality.  Besides  the 
primary  criterion  of  external  reality  found  in  feelings 
of  resistance,  a  secondary  criterion  is,  therefore,  sup- 
plied by  memory.  Of  the  two  kinds  of  memories,  both 
having  the  memory-coefficient,  those  which  represent 
external  realities  and  those  which  do  not,  the  former 
are  important  factors  in  the  develoj^ment  of  our  idea  of 
the  world  without.  Among  the  trains  of  association  by 
which  memories  may  be  voluntarily  brought  up  are  cer- 
tain muscular  trains  themselves  accompanied  by  resist- 
ances, and  the  memories  brought  up  by  them  also  re- 
sist. It  is  only  these  muscular  resisting  trains  termi- 
nating in  a  resisting  experience  which  carry  belief  in 
external  things  remembered.  For  example,  I  remember 
equally  a  merman  and  a  salesman.  I  can  get  the  shop- 
man again  as  a  present  (resisting)  reality  by  reproducing 
the  series  of  muscular  (voluntary,  but  resisting)  sensa- 
tions required  to  revisit  his  shop.  But  I  can  only  get 
the  merman  as  an  image  (unresisting)  by  a  train  of 
ideal  (voluntary,  but  unresisting)  associates.  The  former 
alone  I  do  and  must  consider  externally  real.  The 
secondary  criterion  of  external  reality,  therefore,  is  7ny 
ability  to  reinstate  resisting  experiences  at  ivill. 

In  this  secondary  criterion  the  element  of  persist- 
ence included  in  our  idea  of  external  things  seems  to 
take  its  rise.  In  saying  things  are,  we  mean  also 
that   they   continue.      That   is,   as   we   have    seen,  we 


166  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF, 

mean  that  we  are  able  to  go  and  find  them  again,  and 
find  them  with  the  same  resistance  they  showed  when 
we  experienced  them  before.  To  a  creature  without 
memory,  reality  would  be  simply  successive  resistances  : 
but  with  memory  as  recognition  comes  also  persistence. 

The  history  of  opinion  regardinpj  belief  in  objective 
tilings  sliows  tliat  tlie  twofold  nature  of  tlie  complete  crite- 
rion has  been  generally  overlooked.  Hume/  Mill,''  Pikler,' 
James/  emphasize  the  voluntariness  (memory  side)  of  reality. 
The  same  is  seen  in  Mill's  famous  definition  of  external  reality 
as  "the  permanent  possibility  of  sensation."  Bain,'  Spencer," 
Stout,'  Lipps,"  give  corresponding  emphasis  to  the  resistance 
side.  The  latter  certainly  are  more  just,  since  resistance  is 
the  last  test  even  of  images  which  persist:  but  the  memory 
side  of  extei-nality  just  as  certainly  requires  due  recognition, 
and  a  true  view  means  the  theoretical  union  of  the  two.'  Of 
recent  writers,  Lipps'  treatment  is,  in  the  author's  opinion, 
the  most  adequate.  Belief  in  external  reality  is  thus  seen  to 
attend  upon  the  whole  process  of  perception.  Its  first  rise 
follows  upon  the  diferentiation  of  sensations  as  need-filling, 
resisting,  etc.;  the  feeling  of  massiveuess  aiid  externality 
accompanies  localization;  and  persistence  is  the  feeling  of 
repetition  and  association  involved  in  sense-intuition.  The 
element  of  involuntariness  in  sense-intuition,  by  which  cer- 
tain groups  of  sensations  not  only  are  but  must  be  found 
together,  is  well  pointed  out  by  Lipps. 

The   objective  validity  of  belief  in  external  tilings  is,  of 
course,  a  question  of  metaphysics. 

'  Treatise  on  Human  Nature,  pt.  in.  sects.  7,  8,  and  14,  and  pt.  rv. 
sect.  2.  Hume's  two  criteria  of  external  reality,  constancy  and  cohe- 
rence, both  involve  memory. 

^  Exam,  of  IlamiUon,  i.  chap.  11. 

5  Psychology  of  Belief  in  Objective  Existence. 

*  Loc.  cit.,  chap.  xxi. 

^Emotions  and  Will,  3d  ed.,  pp.  574-583. 

^  Princ.  of  Psychology,  vol.  ii.  pt.  vii.  chaps.  16-18. 

"^  Loc.  cit. 

*  Orundthatsachen  des  Seelenlebens,  chap.  xvii.  Lipps  uses  the  word 
Widerstandsgeflihl  tov  v^-\i&\,l\\Si\&  called  uncontrollableness  in  general, 
and  Zioangsgefiihl  for  the  resistance-feeling  of  external  reality.  Ibid., 
p.  379. 

*  Cf.  the  writer's  article  in  Mind,  July  1891. 


THOUGHT-COEFFICIENT  OF  REALITY.  167 


§  6.  Belief  in  Concepts  and  Thought. 

Thought-coefficient.'  lu  concej)tion  we  pass  from 
the  simple  reproduction  of  experience  to  the  abstract- 
ing and  generalizing  function  of  apperception.  Con- 
ception, judgment,  reasoning,  have  been  already  de- 
scribed as  the  successive  eflbrts  of  consciousness  to 
maintain  identity  throughout  the  diversity  of  new 
experiences.  The  fundamental  movement,  therefore — 
what  we  may  call  the  logical  impulse — is  to  secure 
identities  or  partial  identities,  resemblances,  consist- 
encies, in  its  content.  The  demand  of  thought  in 
general  is  agreement,  consistency ;  its  opposite  is  con- 
tradiction :  this  it  cannot  abide  and  be  satisfied. 

Consequently,  consistency,  the  absence  of  presenta- 
tive  or  conceptual  contradiction,  is  the  thought-coeffi- 
cient of  belief.  Where  no  other  coefficient  conflicts, 
mere  consistency  carries  intellectual  assent.  But  by 
intellectual  assent,  it  must  be  carefully  noted,  is  meant 
formal  assent,  logical  assent,  indifference  as  far  as  the 
logical  impulse  is  concerned.  My  belief  is  evidenced 
from  the  fact  that  I  go  right  on  and  form  my  general 
class,  until  some  inconsistency  leads  me  to  break  it  up. 

Now  in  judgment  and  reasoning,  as  has  been  said  in  an 
earlier  connection,  this  coefficient  is  made  explicit.  I  assert 
my  identities  as  logical  identities.  So  logic  is  a  formal 
science.  It  has  no  reference  to  what  Ave  call  external  fact, 
for  that  would  be  to  call  in  otlier  coefficients  of  belief — sensa- 
tional, aesthetic,  etc.  And  in  the  existential  judgment  this 
is  Just  what  we  do.  The  categorical  expresses  logical  belief 
only  ;  the  hypothetical  expresses  the  dependence  of  the  log- 
ical process  upon  sensational  or  other  material  conditions; 
the  existential  expresses  belief  in  these  material  conditions. 

'  Compare  the  whole  of  chap,  xiv,  Senses  and  Intellect. 


168  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 


§  7.  EMOTio]srAL  Belief. 

No  detailed  argument  is  required  to  show  that  strong 
emotion  has  an  influence  on  belief.  So  evident  is  this 
that  the  emotional  method  of  persuasion  is  universally 
recognized.  An  idea  which  strongly  excites  us  to  some 
definite  emotion,  hope,  fear,  anger,  love,  is  easily  be- 
lieved in,  and  the  cherishing  of  the  emotion  is  a  means 
of  intensifying  conviction  in  reference  to  its  object. 

The  emotional  coefficient,  therefore,  consists,  like  the 
sensational  coefficient,  in  intensity  and  uncontrollaUeness. 
"While  mere  intensity  does  strengthen  conviction,  yet  it 
may  be  questioned  whether  it  is  not  mainly  because  it  is 
through  intensity  that  we  lose  control.  As  soon  as  we 
can  get  our  emotion  under  our  will,  and  can  say  to  our- 
selves, "  think  calmly,"  the  distorting  influence  of  feeling 
disappears. 

It  is  necessary  for  completeness  of  treatment  to  indicate 
that  there  are  beliefs  in  aesthetic  and  moral  truths;  that  these 
beliefs  accompany  satisfactions  which  arise  from  the  gratifica- 
tion of  corresponding  aesthetic  and  moral  impulses.  What  it 
is,  however,  tliat  furnishes  tlie  gratification — constituting  the 
aesthetic  and  moral  coefficients — must  be  left  till  the  emotions 
concerned  are  themselves  discussed.' 

§  8.  General  Conclusion  on  Eeality  and  Belief. 

The  consideration  of  the  different  coefiicients  of  be- 
lief leads  us  to  conclude  that  there  are  as  many  kinds 
of  reality.  There  is  moral  and  aesthetic  reality  no  less 
than  logical  and  sensational  reality  ;  and  there  is  the 
same  reason  for  believing  in  one  that  there  is  in  another, 
for  both  rest  upon  the  fact  that  our  mental  nature  de- 
mands certain  kinds  of  satisfaction,  and  we  find  it  pos- 
sible to  get  them.     Sensational  reality  will  not  satisfy 

'  Chap.  IX,  below. 


CONCLUSION  ON  BELIEF.  169 

our  logical  demands,  for  nature  is  often  refractory  and 
illogical.  Neither  will  logic  satisfy  our  moral  and  aes- 
thetic demands,  for  the  logically  true  is  often  immoral 
and  hideous.  It  is  well,  therefore,  to  write  large  the 
truth  that  logical  consistency  is  not  the  whole  of  reality, 
and  that  the  revolt  of  the  heart  against  fact  is  often  as 
legitimate  a  measure  of  the  true  in  this  shifting  universe, 
as  is  the  cold  denial  given  by  rational  conviction  to  the 
vagaries  of  casual  feeling. 

Composite  Realities.  The  outcome  of  our  life  of  be- 
lief is  the  more  or  less  complete  adjustment  of  these 
kinds  of  reality  to  one  another.  We  find  ourselves  con- 
stantly denying,  minimizing,  scouting  the  external  world, 
as  we  abstract  our  higher  selves  from  connection  with 
it.  Idealistic  philosophy  is  more  a  revolt  from  the  sen- 
sational coefficient  in  the  name  of  the  moral  coefficient, 
than  the  logical  system  of  belief  which  as  philosophy  it 
claims  to  be.  Materialism,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  wor- 
ship of  the  sensational  coefficient  as  more  real  than  any 
other.  Religious  truth  either  tells  us  which  to  put  un- 
der and  which  to  embrace,  or  bids  us  await  a  future 
state  when  all  the  demands  upon  us  will  be  harmoniously 
adjudicated. 

What  I,  as  an  individual,  therefore,  believe,  is  a  com- 
posite thing,  a  mixture  of  truths  representing  the  degree 
of  harmony  I  have  succeeded  in  reaching  among  things 
which,  taken  singly,  I  am  obliged  to  accept.  Among 
them  the  largest  place  is  given  to  external  or  sensational 
reality.  I  bring  things  wherever  possible  to  the  test  of 
sensation.  No  doubt  this  is  becaiise  my  connection  with 
the  external  world  is  most  intimate  and  direct,  and  the 
penalties  of  its  disregard  are  most  quick  and  sure. 
Next  in  practical  importance  is  tlie  world  of  logic  or 
demonstrable  truth,  which  holds  its  sway  imperatively 
when  sensation  does  not  vote  a  negative.     The  disregard 


170  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

and  violation  of  festlietic,  moral,  and  religions  trutli  is 
due  to  the  difficulty  of  deciding  just  what  these  coeffi- 
cients are,  and  of  disentangling  them  from  the  swarm  of 
temporary  emotional  states  which  have  not  the  same 
claim  to  satisfaction. 

Self  the  Ultimate  Eeality.  Amid  the  variations  of 
composite  and  varying  reality,  the  most  fixed  point  of 
reference  is  now  seen  to  be  the  feeling  of  self.  This  is 
as  far  as  psychology  can  go  with  its  analysis  of  reality. 
All  reality  is  given  us  through  our  own  experience  and 
the  centre  of  experience  is  self  and  its  needs. 

Existence.  There  are,  moreover,  as  many  kinds  of 
existence  as  there  are  coefficients  of  reality.  We  have 
already  seen  that  judgment  involves  belief  in  existence 
of  some  kind,  but  not  always  external  existence.'  It 
may  be  mere  mental  existence  (imagination-coefficient), 
as  in  the  world  of  fiction  and  mythology ;  or  ideal  exist- 
ence (aesthetic  coefficient) ;  or  logical  existence  (thought- 
coefficient),  as  belief  in  a  hypothesis  ;  or  it  may  be  what 
we  call  "  real  existence"  (sensational  coefficient),  belief 
in  external  reality.  And  things  are  constantly  pass- 
ing from  one  of  these  kinds  of  existence  to  another. 
"We  learn  that  we  had  mistaken  its  coefficient.  Santa 
Clans  passes  from  real  existence  to  imaginative  existence; 
disembodied  spirits  in  the  minds  of  some  undergo  the 
contrary  change  in  the  manner  of  their  existence.^ 

Relation  of  Belief  to  Will.  If  the  foregoing  theory 
of  belief  be  true,  it  is  evident  that  belief  is  not  the  feel- 
ing of  effort  or  volition.  It  is  a  feeling  of  willingness  or 
consent,  but  not   of  will.      I   often   consent  to   reality 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  286. 

*  See  James'  interesting  treatment  of  the  Worlds  of  Reality,  loe.  cii., 
n.  pp.291  ff. 


DEFINITION  OF  BELIEF.  171 

aga,inst  my  will.  The  effect  of  will  upon  belief  is  really 
tlie  effect  of  vohintiiry  attention  upon  one  or  more  of  the 
coefficients  already  mentioned.  Attention  may  inten- 
sify an  image  and  so  give  greater  sensational  or  emo- 
tional reality.  It  may  also  dwell  upon  and  briug  out 
certain  relational  connections  of  an  image  and  so  throw 
the  logical  coefficient  on  the  side  of  those  connections ; 
it  may  refuse  to  dwell  upon  those  relations  which  are 
distasteful.  But  it  is  not  true  that  we  can  believe  what 
we  will.  To  say  we  believe  what  we  need,  is  not  to  say 
we  believe  what  we  want. 

There  is  a  distinct  difference  in  consciousness  between  the 
consent  of  belief  and  tlie  conseiit  of  will.  The  consent  of 
belief  is  in  a  measure  a  forced  consent :  it  attaches  to  what 
is — to  what  stands  in  the  order  of  things  whether  I  consent 
or  no.  The  consent  of  will  is  a  forceful  consent — a  consent 
to  what  shall  he  througli  me.  Further,  in  cases  in  which  be- 
lief is  brought  about  by  desire  and  will,  there  is  a  subtle  con- 
sciousness of  inadequate  evidence,  until  by  repetition  the  item 
desired  and  willed  no  longer  needs  volition  to  give  it  a  place 
in  the  objective  series:  then  it  is  for  the  first  time  belief, 
but  then  it  is  no  longer  will. 

Definition.  Belief  was  above  defined  as  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  personal  indorsement  of  reality.  Reality  we 
have  now  found  to  be  a  general  term  for  that  kind  of  ex- 
perience wJiich  satisfies  one  or  more  of  the  needs  of  the  indi- 
vidual. Belief  in  anything  is  then,  jDut  most  generally,  the 
consciousness  of  the  presence  of  that  thing  as  fitted  to  satisfy 
a  need :  and  it  is  distinguished  from  the  earlier  unreflect- 
ing reality-feeling,  which  is  the  simple  consciousness  of  a 
presence. 

So  far  the  psychology  of  belief  and  reality.  Tlie  meta- 
physical question  of  reality  is  quite  a  dilferent  thing  ;  how 
to  account  for  these  different  coefficients  and  reduce  tliem  to 
a  single  truth  which  shall  satisfy  all  my  needs.  Shall  we 
credit  them  all, with  Keid;  or  discredit  them  all,  with  Hodg- 
son ?    It  is  not  for  us  to  say  anything  about  it  liere — if  we  had 


172  INTEREST,  REALITY,  AND  BELIEF. 

anything  to  say — except  that  all  our  needs  must  stand  and 
fall  together,  and  no  metaphysics  which  does  justice  to  one 
coefficient  only,  and  calls  that  reality,  can  stand  before  the 
presence  of  tljose  who  find  some  other  need  within  them 
more  urgent  for  the  utterance.' 

In  regard  to  theories  of  belief,  it  may  be  sufficient  to 
say  that  each  of  the  coefficients  mentioned  above  as  sen- 
sational (Hume,  Sully)  and  logical  (Mill)  has  been  con- 
sidered as  the  principle  of  belief.  Bain  explains  the 
state  as  taking  its  rise  in  the  volitional  life.  We  be- 
lieve only  what  we  would  be  willing  to  act  on.  James 
endeavors  to  cover  all  these  partial  truths  in  a  doctrine 
which  he  sums  up  in  the  words,  "the  most  compendious 
formula  perhaps  would  be  that  our  helief  and  attention  are 
the  same  fact."  While  his  discussion  is  suggestive  in  detail, 
I  am  unable  to  bring  his  partial  statements  under  a  suffi- 
ciently exact  principle.  The  account  above  endeavors,  by  the 
delineation  of  belief  as  a  feeling  arising  from  the  successful 
outgo  of  impulse,  to  give  it  the  definite  standing  which  was 
not  possible  while  it  was  confused,  by  every  one,  perhaps, 
except  Brentano,  with  the  simple  fact  of  cousciousnet-s  itself, 
called  above  reality-feeling. 

Interest  and  Belief.  A  further  interesting  question  is 
the  relation  of  these  two  states,  considered  as  ideal  feel- 
ings, to  each  other.  Interest  is  the  feeling  of  an  impulse 
to  attend  aroused  bj  an  object ;  belief  is  the  feeling  of  pos- 
sible satisfaction  for  this  and  other  impulses.  Interest 
has  a  distinct  future  or  prospective  reference.  If  my 
future  w^ere  forever  cut  off  from  an  object,  mj  interest 
in  it  would  die  away  as  soon  as  the  image  of  it  became 
so  faint  and  infrequent  as  not  to  arouse  a  strong  im- 
pulse. But,  how'ever  thus  cut  off  in  the  future,  I  would 
not  lose  my  belief  in  such  an  object :  for  the  memory- 
coefficient  of  it  would  last  as  long  as  memory  itself,  and 
with  it  the  peculiar  coefficient  of  the  object's  own  reality. 
Belief,  therefore,  has  a  retrospective  reference.  Interest 
must  be  perpetually  renewed  by  new  impulse,  new  ap- 

'  See  Lotze's  subtle  discussions,  Metaphysics,  chap,  vii,  and  Micro- 
cosmus,  bk.  ix.  chap.  iii. 


INTEREST  AND  BELIEF.  173 

perceptive  activity ;  belief  can  only  be  destroyed  by 
experience  which  impels  me  to  conclude  that  it  was  at 
first  misplaced.  The  points  of  similarity  between  the 
two  feelings  are  that  they  both  terminate  on  an  intellec- 
tual object,  and  both  arise  in  connection  with  an  impul- 
sive mental  outgo. 

On  belief  in  the  external  world,  consult :  George,  loc.  cit., 
p.  334  ;  Piiffe,  Considerations  siir  la.  Sensibilite,  chap,  v  ;  Pikler, 
Psychology  of  Objective  Existence  ;  Horwicz,  Psychologische  Analy- 
sen,  6  Absch. ;  Stout,  Physical  Reality,  Mind,  xv.  pp.  22,  545  (and 
Pikler),  ibid.,  p.  394;  Baldwin,  Mind,  1891,  p.  389;  Ptabier,  Psycholo- 
gic, chaps.  XXXI,  xxxn  ;  Mill,  Exam,  of  Hamilton,  chap.  xi. 

On  belief  in  general :  George,  loc.  cit.,  pp.  406-455  ;  Olle  La- 
prune,  La  Certitude  Morale;  Brochard,  VErreur ;  James,  loc.  cit., 
II.  chap.  XXI,  and  Princeton  Review,  July,  1883  ;  J.  S.  Mill,  note  to 
James  Mill's  Analysis  of  Phenom.  of  Human  Mind,  i.  pp.  413f. ; 
James  Mill,  ibid.,  chap,  xi  ;  Marty,  Vierteljalirschrift  fur  iciss. 
Philos.,  1884;  Hume,  Treatise,  sects.  7  ff. ;  Bagehot,  Literary  Studies, 
I.  pp.  413f.;  Renouvier,  Psychologie  Rationelle,  ll.  part  ll  ; 
Eoyce,  Religious  Aspect  of  Philosophy,  chaps,  ix,  x  ;  Bain,  Emo- 
tions and  Will,  8d  ed.,  pp.  505-35  ;  Sully,  iSefisation  and  Intuition, 
IV  ;  Newman,  Grammar  of  Assent;  Mill,  System  of  Logic,  bk.  i. 
chap,  v,  Dissertations,  ii  ;  Lipps,  Orundthatsachen  des  Seelenlebe7W, 
chap,  xvii  ;  Waitz,  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologie,  §  36  ;  Rabier,  Psy- 
chologie, appendix  to  chap,  xxi ;  Hoffding,  Outlines  of  Psychology, 
y,  D.;  Adamson,  Encyc.  Britann.,  9th  ed.,  p.  533  ;  Fechner,  Drei 
Motive  und  Grande  des  Glaube/ts;  Ulrici,  Glauben  und  Wissen; 
(religious)  Kostlin,  Der  Glaube  ;  Leibnitz,  Opera  PhUosophica,  ed. 
Erdmann,  pp.  442f.;  Bouillier,  La  Vrai  Conscience,  chap,  xiil ; 
Bventtino,  Psychologie,  i.,  bk.  ii.  chap,  vii  ^  Sully,  Outlines,  p.  397f., 
and  Illusions,  chap,  xi ;  Perez,  V Education  des  le  Berceau,  part  v. 
chap.  III. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 

Interest  of  recognition ; 

Are  there  disinterested  interests  ? 

Educational  value  ot  interest  ; 

Varieties  of  interest — indifference, enthusiasm,  etc: 

Varieties  of  belief — hesitation,  perplexity,  etc. ; 

Theory  of  probabilities  ; 

Selective  aspect  of  interest  and  belief  ; 

Interest  in  the  disgusting,  dangerous,  awful,  etc. 


SPECIAL   IDEAL  FEELINGS. 

QUALITY,  OR  KINDS :    EMOTIONS. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 
DIVISION:  PRESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

§  1.  Division. 

General  Nature  and  Characters.  Special  ideal  feelings 
or  emotions  have  already  been  given  their  place  among 
the  general  phenomena  of  sensibility.  They  are  the 
feelings  which  arise  in  connection  with  different  phases 
of  intellectual  activity,  as  far  as  these  feelings  stand 
clearly  distinguished  in  consciousness  from  one  another. 
They  are  qualitatively  different  (hope  and  fear,  for 
example),  as  sensations  (sound,  taste)  are  qualitatively 
different. 

Besides  distinctions  of  quality  among  emotions,  we  are 
able  also  to  predicate  of  them  quantity  (or  intensity), 
duration  (time-relations),  and  tone  (pleasure  and  pain), 
reaching  the  same  four  characters  which  we  found  to  be 
present  in  sensations." 

The  investigation  of  the  emotions,  it  is  at  once  seen,  if 
the  analogy  from  sensation  is  of  any  worth,  must  proceed 
empirically.  We  have  no  way  of  finding  how  many  kinds  of 
sensations  there  are,  except  by  noting  those  which  we  actually 
feel :  so  we  have  no  high  road  of  certainty  to  an  eniimeration 
or  classification  of  the  emotions.  What  actual  emotions  do 
we  experience  ? — is  the  question  we  must  answer.  The  search 
after  an  exhaustive  classification  of  the  emotions  is  accord- 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  p.  85. 

174 


EMOTIONS  OF  ACTIVITT.  175 

ingly  not  worth  its  cost,  except  in  as  far  as  it  leads  us  to  in- 
quire what  emotions  our  general  mental  theory  would  lead  us 
to  expect. 

Blinds.  Upon  examination,  states  of  ideal  sensi- 
bility fall  into  two  classes,  which  may  be  called  respec- 
tively emotions  of  activity  and  emotions  of  content,  i.e., 
first,  feelings  of  the  operation  of  the  apperceptive  func- 
tion without  reference  to  what  it  operates  upon ;  and 
second,  feelings  excited  by  the  particular  object  upon 
W'hich  the  intellect  operates.  These  classes  of  ideal 
feeling  suggest  themselves  for  separate  treatment. 

This  distinction  is  essentially  the  same  as  the  current 
German  (llerbartian)  division  of  emotions  into  formal  and 
viaterial.^  The  terms  of  the  text  are  pi-eferred  because  tliey 
accord  better  with  the  terms  already  used  in  earlier  connec- 
tions, and  also  because  the  use  of  the  distinction  between 
''formal  and  material^'  carries  metaphysical  associations 
unnecessary  here.  To  adopt  that  terminology  would  also 
prejudice  the  detailed  treatment  below  in  favor  of  the  Her- 
bartiau  theory  of  feeling,  to  which  strong  exception  may  be 
taken.  It  may  be  noted  that  of  the  common  ideal  feelings 
already  treated  of,  interest  belongs  to  the  emotions  of  ac- 
tivity, and  the  feelings  of  reality  and  belief  to  those  of 
content. 

§  2.  Emotions  of  AcTiviTr.' 

It  has  already  been  seen  that  all  mental  activities 
reside,  that  all  apperceptive  processes  happen,  in  the 
attention :  hence  the  great  class  of  emotions  of  activity 
cluster  round  the  difi'erent  phases  of  the  attentive  life. 
These  feelings  again  fall  into  two  classes,  which  we  may 
call  feelings  of  degree  of  adjustment,  and  feelings  of 
function,  or  activity  proper. 

'  See  Nahlowsky,  J)as  Gefuhlslebcn.  pp.  49  51  ;  also  Wiiitz  aud 
Volkmann,  in  loc,  and  in  Englisli,  Ward. 

"  Cf.  especially  the  clear  treatment  of  AVait/.,  Lehrbuch  d.  Psych., 
pp.  305  ff. 


176  DIVISION:   PBESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

Emotions  of  Adjustment.  It  is  an  easy  matter  to  get 
these  feelings  experimentally.  Attention  to  successive 
stimuli — say  sounds — following  one  another  in  very 
rapid  succession,  soon  grows  painful  as  a  feeling  of 
distraction  or  confusion.  The  attention  cannot  adjust 
and  readjust  itself  in  time  to  bring  order  into  its  stimu- 
lations. On  the  contrary,  when  there  is  an  even- 
measured  flow  in  the  appeals  to  which  the  attention  is 
open,  we  have  a  class  of  feelings  of  abstraction  or  clear- 
ness. Again,  a  stimulus  may  be  so  slight,  vague,  dim, 
as  to  lead  to  violent  concentration  upon  it,  giving  feel- 
ings of  contraction  or  effort ;  and  again,  we  often  have 
the  consciousness  of  unusual  breadth  of  view,  compre- 
hensiveness of  range,  expansion  or  ease. 

It  is  seen  that  these  emotions,  given  thus  in  pairs, 
indicate  roughly  a  distinction  between  what  is  called 
sensory  and  ideal  attention.  The  first  of  each  pair — dis- 
traction, abstraction,  contraction,  expansion — refer  to 
the  adjustment  of  the  attention  itself  with  the  muscular 
feelings  it  includes.  A  number  of  sounds  distract,  a 
continued  musical  chord  abstracts,  a  microscopic  prepa- 
ration contracts,  and  a  landscape  expands,  one's  atten- 
tion ;  and  the  different  feelings  are  very  distinct.  An 
outstanding  feeling  of  good  adjustment  is  that  of 
rhythm,  based  upon  successive  movements  of  the  atten- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  the  second  named  in  each 
pair  refer  more  particularly  to  the  apperceptive  or 
thought  process  which  is  brought  about  in  the  corre- 
sponding state  of  the  attention.  Many  reasons  confuse  a 
subject,  but  the  discovery  of  harmony  among  them 
clears  it  up  ;  but  I  may  make  an  effort  to  understand 
it  better,  and  my  success  leads  to  a  feeling  of  ease. 
These  feelings  become  generalized  in  the  common  ideal 
feelings  already  treated,  i.e.,  doubt  and  helief. 

There  are  a  great  many  subordinate  varieties  of  these 
feelings  of  adjustment,  but  the  enumeration  of  them  is  not 


EMOTIONS  OF  FUNCTION.  177 

necessary:  such  are  fatigue,  sluggishness,  opposition,  seehing, 
finding,  success,  faitnre,  hesitation,  perplexity,  uiiceiiainty. 
As  said  before,  sucli  enumerations  are  quite  empirical  and 
incomplete.  Excellent  detailed  treatment  from  the  Herbar- 
tian  standpoint  is  Nahlowsky's.'  For  theoretical  considera- 
tions, the  student  may  consult  Ward." 

Emotions  of  Function.  Although  the  line  of  distinc- 
tion is  inexact,  this  class  of  emotions  is  conveniently 
separated  from  the  foregoing.  They  are  feelings  of  the 
apperceptive  process,  as  far  as  it  is  felt  in  operation ; 
still,  however,  apart  from  the  nature  of  the  particular 
object  of  its  operation.  The  going-out  of  the  attention 
may  be  felt  as  freshness,  triumph,  eagerness,  alertness, 
hope,  courage,  aspiration,  elation ;  or  as  hesitation,  indeci- 
sion, anxiety,  timidity,  melancholy,  irritation,  fear.  The 
former  great  class  may  be  known  in  general  as  emotions 
of  exaltation,  and  the  latter  as  emotions  of  depression. 

A  division  has  been  attempted  of  these,  as  of  other  emotions, 
into  those  having  present,  past,  and  future  reference  ;  but 
the  details  are  plain  enougli  to  suggest  themselves  to  the 
reader,  iloreover,  as  far  as  they  are  purely  feelings  of  func- 
tion, and  do  not  vary  with  the  object  referred  to  as  past, 
present,  or  future,  they  are  only  three,  all  of  which  have  been 
suggested  under  the  head  of  common  ideal  feeling,  i.e.,  feel- 
ing of  recognition  of  that  which  is  past,  of  presence  in  regard 
to  that  which  is  now,  and  of  expectation  of  that  which  is 
future.  If  more  than  mere  time-form  is  meant,  and  if  such 
feelings  have  qualitative  differences  which  mark  tlunn  as  ])ast, 
present,  or  future,  then  they  belong  under  the  head  of  feel- 
ings of  content,  or  "material"  feelings. 

§  3.  Emotioks  of  Content,  i.e.,  having  Eeference  to 

Objects. 

The  great  body  of  our  emotional  states  have  not  the 
fixity  and  exact  determination  of  emotions  of  activity. 
The    so-called  objective    or  qualitative    emotions   vary 

'  Loc.  cii.,  pp.  85-130.      See  nlso  Dewey,  Pnycholociy,  pt.  ii.  chup.  xii. 
^  Eacyc.  Britann.,  art.  Phycholoyy. 


178  DIVISION:    PRE8ENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

witli  all  the  varieties  of  combination  in  wliicli  objects  or 
objective  truths  may  take  shape.  Accordingly,  no  ex- 
haustive classification  in  detail  will  be  attempted.  Per- 
haps the  most  convenient,  as  the  most  evident,  division 
of  these  emotions,  is  based  uj^on  distinctions  among  their 
objects,  as  regards  the  kind  of  belief-coefficient  which 
they  involve. 

Proceeding  on  this  plan  we  may  distinguish  presen- 
tative  from  relational  emotions,  and  under  the  presenta- 
tive  order  we  find,  first,  a  great  class  which  refer 
exclusively  to  self,  terminate  on  the  ego;  for  example, 
pride.  These  we  may  call  self-emotiona,  after  analogy 
with  the  more  affective  kinds  of  sensation,  which,  it  will 
be  remembered,  have  most  direct  value  as  reflecting  the 
subjective  side  of  sense-experience.  Another  class,  vmder 
the  presentative  type,  depend  upon  the  relation  of  the 
object  of  the  emotion  to  one's  self,  as  fear,  etc.  These 
we  may  call  objective  emotions,  after  analogy  with  the 
knowledge  element  in  sensation.  Relational  emotions, 
on  the  other  hand,  terminate  upon  objects  which  have 
certain  complexities  in  themselves  apart  from  their  con- 
nection with  the  individual.  The  presentative  emotions 
carry  belief  in  the  sensational  or  memory  coefficient ; 
the  relational,  in  the  logical  coefficient. 

Further,  under  the  objective  emotions,  we  may  dis- 
tinguish the  expressive  from  the  sympathetic.  The  former 
indicate  a  reaction  in  consciousness  outward  as  an  ex- 
pression of  personal  feeling;  and  the  latter  indicate  a 
similar  reaction,  which  is  now  sufficiently  described  by 
the  term  sympathy.  Again,  feelings  of  relation  fall  into 
so-called  logical  and  conceptual  feelings. 

The  divisions  thus  indicated  may  be  presented  to  the 
eye  in  the  following  table : 

Emotions  of    (  P--t^"-  I  m^ctive  |  f^P-^^;^. 

Content        i  t^  i  ^-       ^         Logical      ^ 
(  Eelational      |  Conceptual 


EMOTIONS  OF  CONTENT.  179 

§  4.  Self-emotioxs. 

The  emotions  wliicli  terminate  on  one's  self  must  be 
clearly  distinguislied  from  the  feeling  proper  of  self. 
The  feeling  of  self  underlies  all  other  forms  of  conscious- 
ness when  self-consciousness  has  once  arisen.  Assuming 
this  to  be  so,  whatever  self  may  be,  we  find  that  the  con- 
templation of  self,  when  it  becomes  the  object  of  our  re- 
flection, arouses  certain  spontaneous  and  peculiar  forms 
of  emotional  excitement.  These  are  the  emotions  of 
self. 

Such  emotions  attend  either  an  exalted  estimate  of 
one's  own  person  or  possessions,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  a 
depreciatory  estimate.  The  former  we  may  call  emo- 
tions of  pride,  and  the  latter  emotions  of  humility. 
Looked  at  casuall}' ,  emotions  of  pride  include  the  states 
ordinarily  called  pride,  vanity,  haughtiness,  conceit,  sujjeri- 
orify,  complacency,  arrogance,  self-confidence,  fi^oivardness, 
etc. ;  and  under  emotions  of  humility  we  have  humility, 
modesty,  self -debasement,  self-distrust,  inferiority,  hashful- 
ness,  meanness  of  spirit,  lueakness,  poverty,  shame,  etc. 

In  different  individuals  these  emotions  have  habitual 
stimulation  in  very  varying  circumstances.     One  vain- 
glorious mortal  dwells  always  upon  his  past  exploits  ; 
another,  on  the  mighty  deeds  he  is  going  to  perform. 
One  humble  spirit  bears  always  in  mind  the  Aveakness  of 
his  earlier  or  present  endeavors ;  another  lives  in  con- 
stant dread  that  an  occasion  may  arise  in  which  his  real 
shortcomings  will  become  evident.  Moreover,  besides  the 
common  object  of  them  all,  self,  viewed  in  a  narrow  sense, 
these  emotions  attach  very  broadly  to  anything  in  which 
one's   interest   is  wrapped  up,  or   for  which  he  is  in 
any  way  responsible.     Without  discussing  the  question 
as  to  whether  tlie  extent  of  tliose  feelings  justifies  our 
extending  the  notion  of  self  to  include  all  the  objective 
personal   interests  of   the  man,  it  is  still  true  that  his 


180  DIVISION:    PRESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

self-feelings  overflow,  as  Hume  maintained,  and  attach 
themselves  to  all  objects  with  which  he  is  closely  and 
habitually  associated.  A  man  grows  proud  of  his  col- 
lege, his  boarding-house,  even  of  the  valor  of  his  ene- 
mies ;  ashamed  of  his  associates,  of  the  shabby  dress  of 
his  grocer,  of  the  venality  of  his  political  adversaries. 
Give  me  a  real  interest  in  anything  whatever,  and  it  be- 
comes mine  in  an  emotional  sense  :  its  fate  affects  me  in 
the  same  way,  though  not  to  the  same  degree,  as  a  simi- 
lar fate  to  myself. 

Self-emotions  as  Egoistic.  This  transfer  of  emotion 
from  the  strict  self-object  is  seen  at  once  to  be  due 
to  the  nature  of  interest  as  an  egoistic  feeling.  If  my 
pride  attaches  only  to  what  I  am  deeply  interested  in,  it  is 
because  my  interest  represents  the  outcome  of  my  own 
selective,  habitual,  and  truest  activities.  In  worshipping 
what  is  closely  connected  with  myself,  I  am  worshipping 
largely  what  I  have  made  or  done — in  short,  my  own 
power,  or  myself.  The  interest  of  mere  suggestion,  of 
curiosity,  the  exploring  interest,  does  not  carry  my  emo- 
tion of  pride  or  humility ;  it  is  perfectly  indifl'erent  as 
far  as  its  object  is  concerned,  unless  by  my  exploration 
I  discover  some  deeper  connection  between  this  object 
and  myself.  The  bearing  of  this  truth — the  essential 
egoism  of  this  whole  class  of  feelings — upon  the  sym- 
pathetic emotions  is  noted  below. 

§  5.  Objective  Emotions. 

The  objective  emotions  have  already  been  characterized; 
they  are  so  called  to  indicate  that  their  main  reference 
is  to  an  object.  As  feelings,  they  are  subjective  states,  but 
they  arise  as  differentiated  qualitative  states  ;  and  this 
differentiation  seems  to  depend  in  some  way  upon  the 
relation  of  self  to  the  objects  which  excite  them  respec- 


OBJECTIVE  EMOTIONS.  181 

tivelj.  But  the  idea  of  self,  as  itself  an  object  presented 
in  relation  to  the  thing  on  which  the  emotion  terminates, 
is  not  necessarily  present.  Children  show  fear,  anger, 
etc.,  before  they  have  the  notion  of  self.  The  object  of 
the  emotion  does  sustain  a  relation  in  adult  conception 
to  self,  and  the  emotion  which  was  purely  instinctive 
(presentative)  at  first  thus  becomes  reasonable  (repre- 
sentative). But  the  fact  that  the  same  emotion  may  not 
have  a  conscious  self-reference  shows  that  such  a  refer- 
ence is  not  one  of  its  essential  conditions. 

This  case  illustrates  the  growth  of  consciousness  in  connec- 
tion with  tli'e  nervous  sj'Stem.  What  in  the  child  represents 
a  natural  inherited  reaction  upon  special  kinds  of  pres- 
entations, is  prophetic  and  anticipatory  of  conscious  means 
to  ends  in  the  man :  a  nervous  adaptation  is  confirmed  and  re- 
affirmed by  a  conscious  adaptation.  Facts  of  this  kind  favor 
the  theory  that  the  nervous  system  itself  represents  intelligent 
adaptation,  either  througli  the  consciousness  of  its  progenitors, 
or  through  the  teleologieal  principle  of  its  own  development. 

The  position,  therefore,  is  mistaken  that  the  fundamental 
objective  emotions  have  necessarily  a  conscious  self-reference. 
The  truth  is  that  they  co)ne  to  have  such  a  reference.  We 
would  expect  this  from  the  falsity  already  pointed  out  of  the 
idealistic  position  that  knowledge  of  an  object  necessarily  im- 
plies the  antithesis  of  subject  and  object.  Of  course,  if  one 
hold  to  the  latter  position  in  regard  to  presentations,  he  must 
hold  the  former  in  reference  to  presentative  emotions. 
Hume's  celebrated  distinction  between  the  object  of  an  emo- 
tion and  its  cause'  is  true  only  for  the  adult  reflective  con- 
sciousness, in  which  the  purpose  of  the  emotion,  at  first  only 
biological,  has  become  a  conscious  psychological  end  as  well." 

'  Treatise,  bk.  ii.  pt.  i.  sect.  3. 

'  Schueider  makes  this  distinction  clear  by  showing  that  some  feel- 
ings begin  as  purely  biological  (fear,  auger)  and  end  by  being  purely 
mental  (dread,  hate).  He  designates  these  perception  {Wahrnehmnnga) 
and  representation  (  Vorstellungs)  feelings,  respectively,  as  distinguished 
from  purely  physical  (Evipfindungs)  and  purely  formal  (Gedanken) 
feelings.  The  class  called  presentative  in  the  text  corresponds  to  his 
two  classes,  i.e.,  perception  and  representation  feelings.  Schueider, 
Thierische  Wille,  pp.  95-121. 


182  DIVISION:    rRESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 


§  6.  Expressive  Emotions. 

These  emotions,  further,  fiud  their  place  in  the  reactive 
consciousness,  as  both  the  study  of  chiklren  and  adult 
reflection  teach  us.  They  rise  in  child-life  before  volition 
becomes  prominent.  Consequently  the  phrase  expressive 
emotion  serves  best  to  distinguish  them.  They  are  an 
expression  of  the  reaction  or  behavior  of  consciousness 
when  given  objects  are  presented.  They  represent  the 
reactive,  outgoing  side  of  consciousness,  as  the  affective 
emotions  or  feelings  of  self  represent  the  receptive  or  re- 
flective side. 

Looked  at  from  this  point  of  view,  emotions  rest  upon 
impulses,'  and  exhibit  the  two  great  directions  which 
have  already  appeared  in  impulse,  i.e.,  toward  or  from  an 
object  as  fitted  to  satisf}-,  or  the  contrary.  Careful  dis- 
tinction in  terminology — more  careful  and  exact,  no 
doubt,  than  the  facts  warrant — gives  over  the  active,  im- 
pelling factor  in  a  state  of  high  emotion  to  impulse,  and 
reserves  for  emotion  only  the  mental  excitement,  agita- 
tion, felt  disturbance  of  consciousness.  This,  at  any 
rate,  serves  to  cover  both  aspects  of  the  case,  and  gives 
us  a  terminology  which  may  be  consistently  maintained. 

Having  in  view,  therefore,  the  direction  of  the  im- 
pulses which  the  expressive  emotions  accompany,  we 
may  distinguish  emotions  of  attraction  from  emotions  of 
repulsion. 

The  treatment  of  the  impulses  which  express  higher 
ideal  reactions — in  distinction  from  sensuous  impulse — 
is  now  reserved. 

It  is  accordingly  the  impulse  which  is  really  expressive, 
the  emotion  being  the  inner  or  conscious  side  of  that  expres- 
sion. We  shall  see  below  that  the  question  is  an  interesting 
and  important  one,  whether  the  facial  and  general  muscular 

'  Cf,  Jessen,  Versuch  iiber  PsycJiologie,  p.  292. 


EXPRESSIVE  EMOTIONS.  183 

moTements  which  are  ortlinarily  known  as  movements  of 
emotional  expression  are  not  historically,  after  all,  the  remains 
of  useful  motor  reactions,  i.e.,  the  channels  of  impulse.  The 
establishment  of  such  a  theory  by  the  evolutionists  wonld  go 
to  show  that  emotion  is  but  the  consciousness  that  there  is 
impulse,  and  that  it  is  expressing  itself. 

Emotions  of  Attraction.  Under  the  general  head 
of  attraction,  we  may  include  all  tendencies  toward  an 
object  or  individual,  or  satisfaction  in  its  presence ; 
from  the  slight  feeling  of  approval  to  the  boisterous 
expression  of  social  enjoj-ment,  or  to  the  quieter  but 
stronger  movings  of  afl'ection  and  love.  And  the  prog- 
ress of  this  emotion  in  degree  and  closeness  of  attach- 
ment is  an  interesting  and  typical  chapter  in  the  natural 
history  of  feeling. 

Beginning  with  interest — the  emotion  of  simple  atten- 
tion— an  object  becomes  attractive  as  it  comes  into  clear 
relation  Avith  one's  self.  Both  simple  association,  by  the 
egoistic  reference  already  remarked  upon,  and  increasing 
knowledge  of  attractive  qualities  in  the  thing  in  question, 
tend  to  increase  its  attracting  force.  Further,  any  effort 
which  may  have  been  put  forth  in  connection  with  such 
an  object  increases  its  hold  upon  us,  and,  by  strengthen- 
ing our  interest,  makes  its  presence  a  matter  of  need. 

In  this  increased  attractiveness  of  an  object,  however, 
we  discriminate  clearly  between  persons  and  things. 
Familiarity  with  things  always  leads  to  attacliment  to  them, 
simply  by  association  and  interest.  If  the  thing  is  use- 
ful we  become  further  attached  to  it ;  if  it  turn  out 
useless,  we  simply  neglect  it ;  but  it  still  has  its  place 
in  its  interesting  environment.  But  things  never  arouse 
in  us  the  opposite,  repellant  emotion,  except  by  some 
kind  of  association  with  persons. 

In  the  case  of  persons,  on  the  other  hand,  the  simple 
attachment  which  now  becomes,  in  its  earliest  form,  ad- 
rniration,  passes  over,  on  fiuther  acquaintance  with  the 


184  DIVISION:    PRESENT ATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

object,  into  a  more  positive  and  vigorous  emotion. 
Strengthen  the  ties  of  association  and  self-relation  (kin- 
ship, partnership,  etc.)  sufficiently,  and  the  emotion  of 
attachment  becomes  affection  and  love.  There  is  a  line  in 
the  growth  of  the  emotion  of  attraction  beyond  which  all 
revelations  of  character  or  action,  however  damaging, 
only  deepen  and  strengthen  the  earlier  tie.  But  if  this 
line  has  not  already  been  reached  when  damaging  dis- 
coveries are  made,  if  the  attractive  emotion  has  only 
reached  the  stage  of  admiration  arising  from  intellectual 
interest  and  casual  association — then  there  comes  a  re- 
vulsion to  emotion  of  repulsion. 

Around  these  three  stages  in  the  growth  of  emotions 
of  attraction,  the  varieties  of  such  feelings  may  be 
grouped.  Admiration,  the  feeling  of  deep  interest  in  per- 
sons, is  veneration  when  its  object  is  elderly,  superior,  or 
of  high  rank  ;  aiue,  when  it  is  obscurely  grand  and  im- 
posing. Attachment,  the  feeling  of  close  association  with 
and  dependence  upon  persons  and  things,  has  distinct 
colorings,  when  felt  toward  inanimate  objects,  animals, 
inferior  or  superior  persons,  etc.  Affection,  the  feeling 
of  profound  attraction  toward  persons,  arising  from  the 
deeper  ties  of  family  or  common  life-interests,  parallel 
opinions  and  aims,  or  congenial  dispositions,  takes  on 
innumerable  forms  known  by  name  as  distinct  emotions  : 
feelings  of  confidence,  patience,  security,  help,  congratula- 
tion, self -surrender,  self-denial,  tenderness — in  short,  all  the 
infinite  emotional  phases,  of  past,  present,  and  future 
reference,  which  poets  have  sung  and  women  have  felt 
since  one  human  heart  first  learned  to  enlarge  its  borders 
to  include  another. 

All  such  feelings  of  attractiveness  take  on  peculiar 
qualities  when  their  objects  are  matters  of  future  or  of 
past  time.  The  belief-coefficient  ma}^  be  a  representa- 
tive in  distinction  from  the  sensational  (presentative) 
one,   carrying   the   force   of   the   future   as   well  as   of 


EXPRESSIVE  EMOTIONS.  185 

memory :  these  emotions  are  then  called  liope  and  joy 
respectively. 

It  should  be  remarked  that  the  place  of  sympathetic 
emotion  iu  feelings  of  attraction  cannot  be  here  discussed. 
It  is  a  topic  for  future  treatment  ;  but  that  it  bears  a  large 
part  in  the  more  intense  phases  of  affection  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  It  must  not  be  supposed,  further,  that  there  are  no 
other  emotional  elements  than  the  attracting  motive  in  the 
feelings  here  mentioned.  Each  one  of  them  is  exceedingly 
complex.  They  are  placed  under  the  "  attractive  "  category, 
to  emphasize  the  kind  of  impulse  to  which  they  attach.  The 
minute  analytic  treatment  of  each  would  be  an  extended 
inquiry,  largely  barren  of  theoretical  or  useful  results. 

Emotions  of  Repulsion.  The  repelling  impulses  also 
supply  us  with  a  group  of 'emotions  of  enormo\is  range 
and  importance.  What  has  been  said  about  the  devel- 
opment of  the  feeling  of  attraction  applies  Avith  some 
modification  to  this  class  also.  Sim23le  interest  and 
some  knoAvledge  is  necessary  to  induce  the  feeling  of 
unattractiveness  in  the  first  instance ;  it  grows  to  be 
object ionahlent^s  in  things  (mainly)  or  persons.  The 
feelings  toward  things  do  not  pass  into  stronger  emo- 
tion except  through  association  Avitli  persons.  But  with 
persons  it  passes  into  distaste,  a  positive  feeling  which 
becomes  intense  in  abhorrerice.  At  any  stage,  except 
that  of  extreme  repulsion,  an  attracting  motive — kin- 
ship, pride,  intellectual  admiration,  etc. — may  assert 
itself  so  strongly  as  to  cause  a  revulsion  of  feeling  over 
to  the  attractive  side  :  and  attachments  thus  formed  are 
often  most  lasting  and  intense. 

Many  modifications  of  the  so-called  feeling  of  ohjec- 
tionaUeness  might  be  mentioned  :  feelings  of  inferiority, 
of  poor  breeding,  of  had  faith,  disdain,  distrust,  etc.  So 
positive  distaste  may  take  form  as  impatience,  scor% 
rebellion,  impertinence,  malice,  vengeance,  present  fear, 
anger,  hatred,  etc.  And  abhorrence  has  varieties  in 
detestation,  contempt,  disgust,  loathing,  etc. 


186  DIVISION:   PEESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

All  tlie  emotions  of  tliis  class  also  get  generalized 
under  coefficients  of  future  and  memory  reality  respect- 
ively, and  become  the  opposites  of  hope  and  joy,  i.e., 
fear  (or,  more  properly,  drectd)  and  sorroiv. 

Exhaustive  enumerations  here  also  are  unnecessary  be- 
cause both  unprofitable,  and  impossible.  The  further  ques- 
tion of  interest  remaining  is  tliat  of  the  possible  reduction  of 
all  varieties  of  expressive  emotion  to  a  few  simpler  kinds  of  re- 
active feeling.  How  far  such  a  task  is  promising  is  indicated 
below  in  connection  with  ideal  impulses,  where  the  question 
can  be  approached  to  better  advantage.  It  would  be  an  inter- 
esting and  profitable  exercise  in  refl^ective  analysis,  for  teachers 
to  suggest  emotions  not  liitherto  mentioned,  and  lead  students 
to  attempt  to  assign  them  proper  position  in  one  of  these  or 
later  categories.  The  physical  basis  of  these  emotions  is 
also  deferred. 

§  7.    Sympathetic  Emotions. 

The  second  division  of  presentative  emotions  has 
been  called  sympathetic.  The  word  "  sympathy,"  in  ordi- 
nary usage,  signifies  the  emotion  which  is  called  out  by 
the  intelligence  of  such  good  or  bad  fortune  to  others 
as  sustains  no  immediate  connection  with  our  own. 
The  ordinary  popular  understanding  at  the  outset  is 
that  any  feeling  of  advantage  and  disadvantage  to  one's 
self  is  different  and  apart  from  so-called  pure  sym- 
pathy or  fellows-feeling. 

An  adequate  psychological  analysis  of  the  conditions 
of  sympathy  seems  to  yield  the  following  results  : 

1.  It  is  aroused  by  states  dearly  pleasurable  or  pain  fid. 
There  is  no  occasion  for  sjanpathy  with  one  who  does 
not  need  it ;'  that  is,  with  one  who  is  not  in  a  state  of 
positive  feeling,  good  or  bad.  Further,  the  study  of  the 
first  sympathies  of  children  shows  that  they  extend  to 


'  Only  the  painful  causes  of  sj-mpathy  will  be  considered  in  detail : 
this  accords  with  the  popular  usage.  Tbe  same  considerations  apply, 
however,  to  the  pleasurable  exercise  of  sympathy. 


SYMPATHETIC  EMOTION.  187 

things  as  well  as  to  persons,  and  only  gradually  get  nar- 
rowed down  to  sensible  objects.  Sympathy  as  an  emotion 
is  shown  before  the  child  makes  any  distinction  between 
things  that  feel  and  those  that  do  not.'  Biit  whatever 
the  object  be,  the  emotion  is  called  forth  only  by  such 
happenings  as  have  before  excited  the  child's  own  feel- 
ings of  pleasure  or  pain. 

2.  Some  degree  of  intei'est  is  necessary  to  sympathy. 
The  confirmation  of  this  appears  broadly  in  every-day 
experience.  I  read  in  the  morning  paper  that  thou- 
sands of  people  perished  in  a  Chinese  Hood,  and  the 
cup  of  coifee  that  follows  it  up  is  much  more  impor- 
tant to  me  than  their  bereaA-ed  families.  But  a  single 
death  in  my  own  community  makes  me  at  once  solicit- 
ous in  reference  to  the  deceased  man's  relatives.  Yet 
mere  exploring  interest,  when  it  comes  upon  suffering, 
always  starts  the  sympathetic  feeling. 

3.  Jly  sympathy  is  in  a  rovgh  tuay  proportionate  to  the 
nearness  of  the  individuaV s  connection  ivith  myself  This, 
again,  needs  no  detailed  proof  :  if  my  brother  break  his 
leg,  I  feel  more  sympathy  than  if  a  casual  comrade 
meet  the  same  misfortune  ;  and  the  difference  is  greater 
still  if  the  latter  be  a  servant  or  a  favorite  horse. 

4.  Sympathy  is  aroused,  not  merely  by  real  beings,  but 
by  any  idea  of  siiff'ering.  It  is  not  necessary  that  we 
believe  in  the  object  of  our  sympathies.  Pictiires  in 
memory  win  our  sympathy,  imaginations  in  fiction 
arouse  it,  vague  forebodings  of  misfortune  to  others 
excite  it.  Whenever  there  arises  in  consciousness  an 
idea  of  a  sensible  creature — be  he  fact,  memory,  fancy, 
illusion,  reality  in  any  of  its  kinds,  that  is,  be  he  a 
possibility  in  any  form — his  fortune  as  suffering  or 
enjoying  moves  our  sympathy. 

'  Darwin  observed  sympathy  in  his  child  six  mouths  and  eleven  days 
old.    Mind,  ii.  p.  289. 


188  DIVISION:    PRE8ENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

This  is  true  in  spite  of  our  efforts,  often  successful 
as  they  are,  to  suppress  sympathetic  emotion  by  dwell- 
ing upon  the  unreality  or  ill-desert  of  the  subject  of  it. 
Little  Dorrit  will  move  some  readers,  in  spite  of  their 
sense  that  the  character  is  fictitious.  We  all  feel  the 
stirrings  of  fellow-feeling  for  the  condemned  criminal, 
even  though  we  be  convinced  of  the  justice  of  his  sen- 
tence. In  cases  in  which  we  do  suppress  the  emotion, 
it  is  by  getting  rid  of  the  idea,  turning  the  attention  to 
something  else,  exciting  some  neAv  interest,  that  we  do 
it ;  not  by  depriving  the  subject  in  question,  the  idea 
of  suflferiug,  of  its  force  to  affect  us. 

Definition  of  Sympathy.  It  is  plain,  if  these  points  be 
true,  that  sympathy  is  an  emotion  aroused  by  any  presenta- 
tion which  suggests  suffering. 

In  this  definition  several  further  considerations  are  in- 
volved. By  the  use  of  the  word  "suggestion"  an  impor- 
tant distinction  is  intended  between  the  object  on  which 
sympathy  terminates  and  that  by  which  it  is  caused. 
A  suggestion  is  a  stimulating  idea  which  is  brought  into 
consciousness  from  without,  or  comes  by  an  association, 
in  such  a  way  that  it  does  not  belong  in  the  course  of  my 
real  life.  A  suggested  pain,  for  example,  is  a  pain  which 
I  am  led  to  think  of,  but  which  I  am  not  really  suffering. 
Suggested  suffering  has  not  the  present  coefficient  of 
pain,  but  only  a  remembered  coefficient  of  pain.  Sug- 
gested suffering,  therefore,  is  the  idea  of  pain  as  far  as 
it  differs  in  consciousness  from  'the  actual  pain  of  the 
experience  presented. 

But  the  question  arises  :  Does  such  a  suggestion  ex- 
cite sympath}'  ?  Suppose  a  cruel  father  who  punishes 
his  child  by  pinching,  the  presentation  of  the  father 
may  suggest  pain  to  the  child ;  but  this  does  not  seem 
to  be  sympathy — it  may  be  fear,  or  memory  of  pain. 
Yet,  on  looking  closer  and  observing  children,  we  find 


SYMPATHETIC  EMOTION.  189 

that  if  the  fatlier  take  tlie  attitude  wliich  the  pain  before 
accompauied,  real  sympathy  is  excited.  Let  him  pinch 
a  piece  of  wood,  paj)er,  even  his  own  finger,  and  the 
chiki  a  year  okl  gives  clear  expression  to  its  sympathetic 
emotion.  The  child  does  not  need  the  notion  of 
another  person  who  suffers,  nor  even  of  another  ob- 
ject that  suffers ;  he  only  needs  two  things :  first,  a 
presentation  which  suggests  vivid  pain,  and  second,  the 
absence  of  the  coefiicient  of  reality  which  his  own  suf- 
fering had.  In  other  words,  the  emotion  of  sympathy 
does  not  require  an  object  at  all.  It  acquires  an  object, 
and  then  maintains  itself  by  the  emphasis  of  this  object ; 
but  in  the  first  place  it  attaches  to  any  convenient  pres- 
entation in  close  connection  with  its  exciting  cause. 

This  seems  at  first  sight  a  remarkable  statement,  but  it  is 
borne  out  even  by  adult  experience.  Personally,  the  writer 
finds  it  impossible  to  think  of  suffering  in  the  most  abstract 
and  general  way  without  feeling  the  beginnings  of  sympathy. 
The  simple  thought  of  a  bloody  knife  excites  the  emotion, 
when  the  only  object  is  found  to  be  the  fragmentary  glimpses 
of  dead  bodies,  butchers'  stalls,  and  squealing  pigs,  which 
stand  for  murder.  And  further,  there  seems  to  be  no  differ- 
ence in  the  conscious  feeling  of  remeniliered  pain  and  present 
sympathy,  except  a  vague  outward  reference,  which  means  only 
that  it  is  not  real  pain  now  in  me. 

The  foregoing  assumes,  evidently,  that  there  is  a  differ- 
ence of  some  kind  between  "real  present  pain"  and  the  pain 
which  is  suggested  or  remembered.  It  is  sometimes  held 
that  a  suggestion  or  memory  of  pain  is  real  pain.  This  is 
true  if  in  each  case  we  mean  only  the  tone,  not  the  qualita- 
tive emotional  state  which  it  accompanies.  But  "suffering" 
is  always  a  particular  kind  of  suffering,  not  pain  in  general  ; 
and  the  particular  qualitative  coefficient  of  (say)  a  toothache, 
as  distinguishe(l  from  remorse,  is  clear  enough.  In  the  sug- 
gested suffering  this  qualitative  element  is  wanting  or  very 
confused. 

Kinds  of  Sympathetic  Suggestion.  We  may  sympa- 
thize, thereffjre,  without  sympathizing  with  anytliing, 
and  at  first  this  is  the  experience  of  the  young  child. 


190  DIVISION:    PRESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

But  its  sympathy  gets  an  object,  and,  by  getting  it,  devel- 
ops and  maintains  itself.  Tlie  fact  that  the  suggesting 
presentation  is  generally  the  same  as  the  suffering  crea- 
ture tends  to  give  stability  to  the  object  of  the  emotion. 
Then  there  arises  the  apprehension  of  the  physical  signs 
of  suffering,  for  which  the  child  inherits  in  some  few 
instances  a  direct  susceptibility ;  and  these  carry  the 
objective  reference  of  the  sympathies  over  to  themselves. 
Indeed,  it  is  probable  that  the  first  suggestions  of  suf- 
fering come  from  the  facial  and  vocal  expressions  of 
others.  Imitation  also  leads  to  the  copying  of  the 
movements  of  emotional  expression  of  others,  and  this 
reacts  to  suggest  the  appropriate  emotions  in  the  child 
himself.' 

Development  of  Sympathy.  The  rise  of  sympathetic 
emotion  may  be  described  in  view  of  the  foregoing.  Con- 
sidering only  the  feeling  elements,  in  the  light  of  what 
has  been  said  of  the  intellectual  conditions  of  each,  we 
may  distinguish  three  stages  in  this  development,  i.e., 
affect,  intei-est,  concern.  The  affect  we  understand  to  be 
a  simple  present  state  of  feeling  considered  as  having 
motive  force :  say  a  present  pain.  Affects  become 
strongly  associated  with  presentations,  and  this  associa- 
tion is  a  process  occurring  in  the  attention ;  the  exercise 
of  the  attention  then  excites  interest.  Interest,  further, 
as  far  as  it  arises  in  connection  with  pleasures  and  pains 
remembered,  introduces  concern,  i.e.,  sympathy  become 
definite  as  terminating  on  a  distinct  personal  object. 

Altruistic  Element  in  Sympathy.  The  much-dis- 
cussed question  of  egoism  vs.  altruism  in  the  sympathetic 

'  Cf.  Sully,  Outlines  of  Psychology,  pp.  508  ff.  Spinoza  had  a 
glimpse  of  this  ;  he  says  {Ethics,  in.  demonstr.  27):  "  The  idea  of  an 
external  body  imagined  by  us  will  imply  an  affection  of  our  own  body 
like  to  that  of  the  external  body."  He  held,  however,  that  "  we  must 
imagine  any  one  like  ourselves  to  be  affected  with  any  emotion  in  order 
that  we  may  be  affected  with  the  said  emotion." 


SYMPATHETIC  EMOTION.  191 

emotion  may  receive  partial  consideration  here.  If  it  be 
true  that  suggested  suffering  excites  sympathy,  and  that 
it  is  only  suggested  suffering  that  excites  it,  namely,  suf- 
fering not  felt  to  be  present  as  real  suffering  is,  and  for 
that  reason  attributed,  when  knowledge  is  sufficiently 
advanced,  to  some  one  else — then  we  must  believe  that 
sympathy  is  not  entirely  egoistic.  Suggested  suffering 
is  at  first  neither  egoistic  nor  altruistic,  because  neither 
the  ego  nor  the  alter  exists  in  consciousness  when  sym- 
pathy at  first  arises.'  The  reference  of  real  pain  to  self, 
and  of  suggested  pain  to  another,  seem  to  be  both  late 
acquirements.  But  as  it  is  true  that  the  child  gets  his  ex- 
ternal objects  clearly  presented — especially  his  external 
personal  objects — before  he  clearly  presents  himself,  so 
sympathy  must  be  a  conscious  emotional  motive  before 
self-seeking  is. 

Here,  again,  it  is  necessary  to  draw  a  careful  distinction 
between  the  origin  of  sympathy  and  its  relation  to  volition. 
Sympathetic  emotion  arises  from  experiences  of  personal  pleas- 
ure and  pain  ;  of  this  there  seems  to  be  no  donbt.  But  in 
acting  from  sympathetic  impulses,  the  object  of  the  sympathy 
is  the  end  set  before  consciousness,  not  the  attainment  of 
pleasure  or  the  avoidance  of  pain.  Suggested  pain  in  others 
may  lead  to  a  course  of  conduct  directly  opposed  to  the  course 
most  pleasurable  to  one's  self  ;  that  is,  two  suggestions,  one 
selfish,  the  other  sympathetic,  may  arise  in  direct  opposition 
to  each  other,  and  the  sympathetic  suggestion  may  win  the 
day. 

Nervous  biological  conditions  with  passive  or  reactive 
consciousness,  therefore,  account  sufficiently  for  the  origin  of 
sympathy  as  an  emotion.  But  it  is  only  the  "  psychologist's 
fallacy"  to  make  such  sympathy  of  ethical  worth,  on  the  one 


'  "  It  is  psychologically  without  meaning."  says  lloffding,  "  to  speak 
of  a  native  egoism,  if  by  egoism  is  understood  the  conscious  setting  of  the 
weal  and  woe  of  others  below  our  own."  Outlines  of  P-v/rholof/i/,  pp. 
242,  243.  Stephen  says  lliere  is  fellow-feeling  before  there  is  knowledge 
of  others'  feeling  {Science  of  Ethics,  chap.  vi.  §  2) ;  but  knowledge  of 
one'.s  own  feeling,  as  one's  own,  is  equally  absent. 


192  DIVISION:   PRESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

hand,  with  Bain  *  and  Spencer,  by  converting  it  into  the  self- 
conscious  sympathy  which  sees  self  hidden  "  in  the  shoes"  of 
the  ostensible  object  of  the  kindly  emotion;  or  with  Green,* 
on  the  other  hand,  to  make  all  sympathy  a  matter  of  the  ra- 
tional construction  of  an  end,  which  turns  out  after  all  to  be 
self.  The  ethical  aspects  of  the  case  receive  consideration 
below.^ 

Varieties  of  Sympathetic  Emotion.  A  large  number 
of  varieties  or  shades  of  emotion  may  be  classed  as 
sympathetic,  i.e.,  kindness,  benevolence ,  charitahleness,  etc. 
When  felt  toward  an  equal  in  character  or  station,  we 
call  it  congratulation,  fellow-feeling,  felloiv-svffering,  com- 
panionship, common  well  or  ill  desert,  solicitude,  heartache  ; 
toward  an  inferior,  compassion,  pity,  mercy  ;  tow^ard  one 
much  superior,  it  approaches  awe^  but  differs  from  it  in 
an  unnamable  way. 

There  is  also  malignant  sympathy,  i.e.,  pleasure  in 
another's  pain.  It  is  a  compound  emotional  state,  in  which 
the  pain  of  suggested  sufPermg  is  overwhelmed  by  the  grati- 
fication of  powerful  unworthy  emotions,  such  as  hate,  re- 
venge, self-assertion,  etc.  Ordinarily  it  carries  a  distinct 
element  of  disquiet  and  self -reproof  ;  yet  in  some  natures  it 
seems  to  reach  pure  malignity.  This  feeling  oftener  mani- 
fests itself  as  dissatisfaction  at  another's  success  or  happiness. 


•  Emotions  and  Will,  ch.  n.  Both  Bain  and  Spencer  hold  that 
sympathy  has  arisen  in  connection  with  the  "  gregarious  instinct,"  i.e., 
the  best  conditions  for  life  have  been  those  secured  by  flocking  or 
herding,  and  in  this  way  the  connection  between  an  animal's  own 
safety  or  comfort  and  that  of  other  animals  was  established. 

^  Proleg.  to  Ethics,  pp.  211  f .  It  is  only  a  repetition  of  the  fallacy  of 
Green's  main  position  that  all  feeling  involves  knowledge  of  self.  He 
says :  "If  imagination  (suggestion)  is  merely  the  return  of  feeling  in 
fainter  form,  no  one  can  imagine  any  feeling,  any  more  than  he  can 
originally  feel  it,  except  as  liis  own."  Introd.  to  Hume,  ii.  p.  28. 
Sympathy,  to  Green,  involves  a  "  conceived  identity,  or  unity  in  differ- 
ence, between  the  spectator's  own  person  and  the  person  of  the  other." 
Ibid.,  II.  43,  44. 

»  Chap.  IX.,  §  7. 


REPRESENTATIVE  EMOTION.  193 

Social  Feeling.'  The  further  generalization  of  the 
idea  of  personality  to  which  developed  sympathy  at- 
taches gives  the  emotion  a  broader  reference.  Social 
feeling  is  sympathetic  emotion  as  it  attaches  to  man  in 
general.  It  can  only  arise  after  the  conception  of  man 
is  reached,  of  man  as  a  multiplication  of  particular  men 
like  myself.  As  long  as  men  were  not  considered  all 
"  like  myself,"  but  some  slaves,  some  barbarians,  some 
Gentiles — only  a  few  Greeks  or  Hebrews — social  feeling 
had  only  the  range  of  the  class  or  race  in  the  midst  of 
which  it  arose.  Particular  forms  are  feelings  of  equality , 
justice  and  injmtice,  rigJits,  political  and  patriotic  feelings, 
etc.  Also  under  this  head  should  be  included  feelings 
of  rivalry,  emulation,  jealousy,  ambition,  competition,  love 
of  fame  or  reputation,  sensitiveness — all  the  emotions,  in 
fact,  which  arise  from  the  association  of  man  with  man 
in  social  life.  Intense  pleasure  and  pain  both  tend,  it 
may  also  be  remarked,  to  sociability  and  communicative- 
ness. 


§  8.  Representative  Emotions. 

Presentative  pass  over  into  representative  emotions 
when  the  object  is  itself  representative,  i.e.,  a  memory, 
imagination,  reproduction  of  any  kind.  It  is  sufficient 
to  say  here  that  the  emotion  aroused  by  a  reproduction 
is  the  same  in  kind  as  that  of  tlie  original  presentation. 
They  are  prevailingly,  however,  of  much  lower  intensity. 
The  time  element  which  they  involve  also  gives  them  a 
new  coloring  :  the  joys  of  memory  are  different  from  the 
joys  of  the  present  or  the  future.  This  means  that  the 
substitution  of  the  memory  for  the  sensational  coefficient 
of  belief  has  its  meaning  in  the  emotional  consciousness. 


'  On  the  rehition  of  the  sympathotic  and  social  emotions  to  the  ego- 
istic (selfj  emotions,  see  Ward,  loc.  cit. 


194  DIVISION:    PRESENTATIVE  EMOTIONS. 

So  also,  as  Schneider  claims,'  the  emotion  accompanying 
simple  existential  and  categorical  judgments  passed  on 
objects  is  still  the  same  in  kind  as  the  presentative.  The 
judgment  is  only  the  explicit  belief-form  of  the  synthesis  of 
perception,  and  the  object  fills  consciousness  just  as  a  percept 
does.  I  fear  burglars  more  as  I  talk  about  them  and  describe 
their  murderous  deeds.  There  is  here  a  new  coloring  of 
emotion,  however,  given  by  the  consciousness  of  the  absence 
of  sensational  reality.  We  hold  ourselves  aloof  from  the 
emotion,  as  it  were,  and  deny  its  right  to  arise.  The  feeling 
of  activity  strives  with  the  feeling  of  content.  This  Schneider 
overlooks,  and  consequently  has  no  adequate  basis  for  the 
feelings  of  relation  treated  in  the  next  chapter — feelings  of 
which  the  forms  themselves  of  conceptual  relation  have  be- 
come the  objects. 

On  objective  and  sympathetic  emotion,  consult  :  (development  of) 
Perez,  VEducation  des  le  Berceau,  part  iv  ;  Hoflfding,  Outlines,  vi, 
B  and  C  ;  Horwicz,  Psycholoyische  Analysen,  in  loc. ;  Hodgson, 
Theory  of  Practice,  vol.  i,  tn  loc;  Volkmann,  Lehrhuch,  H  135-138  ; 
(sympathy)  Sully,  Outlines,  pp.  508f. ;  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will, 
part  I.  chaps,  iv-xi  ;  Drbal,  Lehrhuch,  §§  114-125 ;  Carpenter, 
Mental  Physiology,  bk.  i.  chap,  vn  ;  McCosh,  Emotions ;  see  also 
the  works  on  Ethics  for  discussions  of  Sympathy. 

On  social  and  personal  feeling,  see  refs.  given  by  Dewey,  Psy- 
chology, p.  346. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 

Development  of  sympathy ; 
The  ethical  aspects  of  sympathy. 


'  Thierische  Wille,  pp.  120, 121.  Schneider  draws  an  argument  for  the 
identity  of  emotion  as  it  progresses  from  perception  to  thought,  from 
the  sameness  of  its  physical  expression;  for  example,  disgust. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

The  higher  reaches  of  apperception  in  conception, 
judgment,  and  thought,  give  rise  also  to  characteristic 
emotional  states.  The  fundamental  act  of  attention  as 
relating  function  gives  most  general  coloring  to  this 
class  of  feelings,  and  from  it  they  also  derive  their 
name,  relational  feelings.  The  divisions  of  these  emo- 
tions we  should  expect  to  correspond  to  the  kinds  of 
relation  discoverable  in  the  forms  of  judgment.  These 
have  already  been  classified  above,'  and  while  the  feel- 
ings to  which  they  give  rise  are,  like  feelings  generally, 
less  clearly  differentiated,  and  their  nomenclature  quite 
undeveloped,  a  general  correspondence  may  be  easily 
discovered  in  consciousness.  In  the  description  which 
follows,  however,  no  attempt  at  such  an  exhaustive 
parallel  is  attempted. 

At  the  outset,  three  very  distinct  kinds  of  emotional 
experience  may  be  distinguished  :  intellectual  or  logical 
feelings,  ethical  or  feelings  of  right  and  wrong,  and  ces- 
thetic  or  feelings  of  the  heautiful.  The  latter  two  may 
be  further  classed  as  conceptual  feelings. 

It  may  be  observed  tluit  these  feelings  are  distinguished 
clearly  as  a  whole,  tlioagh  not  always  clearly  in  particular 
cases,  from  tlie  emotions  of  activity  ulready  described.  Hero 
we  have  emotions  attaching  to  content,  but  this  content 
is  constructed  in  relations,  i.e.,  the  relations  are  part  of  the 
content.  Activity-feelings  arise  from  the  activity  itstilf,  and 
presentative  feelings  arise  from  objects  in  their  more  isolated 
and  unrelated  character.     For  example,  I  attend  successively 


Sensen  and  Jnieilect,  cliiip.  xiv.  g  4. 

195 


196  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

to  two  tigers  in  a  cage — emotion  of  activity.  I  discover  that 
they  are  similarly  and  beautifully  marked — emotion  of  rela- 
tion. I  am  informed  that  one  of  them  is  at  liberty — presenta- 
tive  emotion  of  fear. 

Recent  work  in  comparative  psychology  is  emphasizing 
the  line  of  demarcation  between  the  intellectual  processes 
involved  in  presentative  and  in  relational  emotion.  We  have 
already  had  occasion  to  note  the  distinction  between  the 
reactive  or  receptive  foi'm  of  consciousness — that  of  percep- 
tion, memory,  passive  imagination,  im})licit  judgment;  and 
the  active  consciousness  in  which  the  data  of  free  reproduction 
are  constructed  under  the  lead  of  explicit  selection — construc- 
tive imagination,  thought.  The  former  is  enlarged  upon  by 
Romanes,'  and  its  products  called  "  recepts"  in  contrast  to 
concepts  proper.  Prof.  Lloyd  Morgan  ^  marks  the  same  dis- 
tinction by  the  terms  "constructs"  (percepts)  and  "isolates" 
(concepts).  Both  writers  point  out  the  "composite"  general- 
ized character  of  passive  mental  construction  and  draw  the 
limit  of  animal  intelligence  just  short  of  active  conception. 
This  distinction  is  slighted,  as  we  have  seen,  by  Schneider 
and  other  evolution  writers. 


§  1.  Logical  Emotions. 

By  distinguishing  the  more  fundamental  emotions  of 
relation  as  logical,  we  intend  to  point  out  those  to 
which  the  coefficient  of  thought-belief  attaches :  those 
which  attend  upon  the  various  acts  of  judgment.  First, 
we  find  a  class  of  feelings  arising  from  hare  relationship 
as  itself  the  object  of  consciousness,  i.e.,  feelings  of 
reasonableness  and  unreasonableness,  of  contradiction,  of 
logical  satisfaction,  of  tendencies  of  thought,^  of  ignorance, 
pf  the  unknoivn,  the  mysterious,  the  inscrutable,  feelings  of 
the  conclusiveness  of  argument,  of  the  hypothetical,  of  the 
ivjconxilusive,  etc.  These  feelings  are  in  close  affinity  with 
the  great  class-feelings  already  described  as  doubt  and 
belief. 

'  Mental  Evolution  in  Man,  chap.  iii. 

*  Animal  Life  and  Intelligence,  chaps,  viir  and  ix. 

*  Cf.  James'  iateresting  descripliou  of  Feelings  of  Tendency,  loc.  cit., 
I.  pp.  249  ff. 


LOGICAL  EMOTIONS.  197 

Connected  with  time-relations  we  liave  wliat  may  be 
called  time-emotions,  i.e.,  anticipation,  prophecy,  preseiiti- 
onent,  hope,  attacliiug  to  the  conception  of  future  time  ; 
retrospection,  revery,  musing,  regret,  feeling  of  the  irreme- 
diable, of  opportunity  lost  or  imj^roved,  attaching  to  the 
conception  of  the  past ;  and  routine,  surprise,  amazement, 
astonishment,  present  opportunity ,  hasty  decision,  attach- 
ing to  the  idea  of  the  immediate  present. 

AS^j9rtce-relations  also  are  reflected  in  emotional 
states :  feelings  of  distance,  moral  remoteness  or  nearness, 
graiuleur,  pettiness,  mentcd  vacancy,  besides  the  ordinary 
sensuous  feelings  of  spacial  relations. 

Other  relationships  give  us  feelings  of  coexistence  or 
the  contrary,  i.e.,  communion,  community,  company,  loneli- 
ness ;  of  quantity,  i.e.,  importance,  insignificance,  greatness, 
abundance,  economy,  paucity,  poverty,  completeness  and 
incompleteness;  of  identity,^  i.e.,  sameness,  resemblance, 
difference,  contrast,  quality  ;  of  fitness,  'i.e.,  utility,  useless- 
ness,  adequacy,  insufficiency,  redundancy,  congridty  and 
incongruity,  suitableness,  adaptation,  means  and  end;  of 
objective  power,  i.e.,  agency,  destructiveness,  might,  fearful- 
ness. 

The  peculiarity  of  this  whole  class  consists  in  the 
conscious  explicitness  of  the  act  of  relating.  Judgment 
has  been  distinguished  from  conception  and  imagination 
by  this  very  feature.  Yet  as  there  is  every  degree  of 
progress  from  the  more  mechanical  union  of  factors  in 
the  pictures  of  passive  imagination,  to  the  clear  con- 
sciousness of  relation  as  found  in  judgment;   so  these 

'  It  is  under  this  head  that  the  emotional  effectiveness  of  rhetorical 
expression  and  illustration  arises,  such  as  the  pleasure  of  a  good  tignre — 
analogy,  simile,  liypcrbole.  Under  this  head,  also,  is  the  feeling  of 
logical  identitication,  or  pleasure  of  the  filling  of  new  materials  into 
the  accustomed  form  of  our  reasoning,  which  the  Ilerbarlians  make 
the  essence  of  logical  feeling  as  a  whole  (Waitz,  Lehrbuch,  p.  800). 
This  feeling  of  logical  framework  or  form  is  often  present  in  the  wild- 
est vagaries  of  dream-life. 


198  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

feelings  vary  from  a  most  to  a  least  degree  of  explicit- 
iiess  in  this  respect.  As  might  be  anticipated,  further, 
there  is  a  class  of  emotions  attaching  peculiarly  to  the 
least  evident  degree  of  relationship,  as  it  appears  in  the 
apperceptive  process  before  it  reaches  conscious  asser- 
tion in  judgment.     These  we  may  now  consider. 

§  2.  Conceptual  Emotions. 

The  progress  of  the  intellect  from  the  involuntary 
combinations  of  fancy  to  the  free  constructions  of  imagi- 
nation and  conception  has  already  been  dej^icted.  This 
progress  is  a  matter  of  feeling  also ;  the  feeling  of  en- 
largement of  range,  emancipation,  constructive  capacity, 
which  is  covered  in  popular  language  by  the  phrase 
getting  or  having  ideals.  If  my  imagination  builds  up 
for  me  something  more  pure  and  satisfying  in  any  par- 
ticular— form,  color,  use — I  say  that  result  approaches 
more  to  my  ideal  in  that  direction.  If,  again,  I  set  my- 
self to  draw  up  a  system  of  philosophy,  I  express  my 
satisfaction  at  each  turn  of  its  development  by  saying  it 
tends  toward  my  ideal  of  a  system  :  and  I  reverence  a 
character  more  because,  as  I  think,  it  more  nearly  em- 
bodies my  ideal  of  a  man.  So  in  all  construction 
whatever,  besides  the  feeling  of  the  extent  of  actual 
construction,  there  is  a  feeling  of  further  possible  con- 
struction— construction  beyond  what  I  have  done,  yet  in 
the  line  of  what  I  have  done. 

§3.  Construction  of  Ideals. 

The  process  of  constructive  imagination  has  been 
described.'  It  is  the  machinery  by  which  ideals  are 
produced.  It  is  only  necessary  here  to  give  the  ele- 
ments, before  pointed  out,^  their  proper  place  in  the 
scheme  of  feelings. 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  pp.  226-243. 
^Ihid.,  pp.  227  f. 


NATURE  OF  IDEALS.  199 

The  apj^efence  or  moving  force  wliicli  impels  a  scien- 
tist or  artist  to  produce  is  tlie  impulsive  principle  of 
need  now  found  to  underlie  belief  and  action  in  general. 
It  belongs  among  the  higher  impulses  yet  to  be  dis- 
cussed. The  artist's  intention  expresses  the  permanence 
of  this  impulse  and  its  exhaustive  range  over  the  mate- 
rial available  to  him.  He  selects  his  material  under  the 
law  of  voluntary  interest.  What  constitutes  the  fitness 
of  his  material  is  the  problem  of  what  ideals  are,  and 
it  is  that  aspect  of  the  case  to  which  we  must  now  turn. 

In  the  former  connection  we  had  to  deal  with  the  intel- 
lectual siile  only  of  constructive  imagination,  to  answer  the 
question  :  What  constructions  do  we  actually  reach  ?  We 
looked  at  art,  etc.,  from  the  composer's  point  of  view. 
There,  while  picturing  the  scientific  and  esthetic  process,  we 
found  no  such  things  as  ideals;  only  the  intimation  of  them  in 
the  shape  of  vague  distant  ends  toward  which  the  imagination 
tends.  Ideals  are  not  mental  constructions  at  all  :  if  once 
constructed  they  would  no  longer  be  ideals:  which  only 
means  tliat  what  we  call  ideals  are  emotional  in  their  nature, 
expressing  tlie  drift  or  felt  outcome  of  the  constructive 
process,  not  any  actual  attainment  of  it.  If  my  ideal  man, 
for  example,  were  an  intellectual  construction,  I  would  be 
able  to  describe  him. 

Nature  oi  Ideals.'  What  are  ideals  ?  W-'hat  is  art 
from  the  spectator's  point  of  view?  Evidently  ideals 
are  something  felt  in  connection  with  present  images  ; 
something,  that  is,  in  virtue  of  which  peculiar  feelings 
arise  over  and  above  the  simple  feelings  of  apprehen- 
sion. In  other-words,  conceptions  of  the  kind  produced 
under  the  lead  of  the  constructive  imagination  have  a 
peculiar  quality,  which  leads  us  to  pronounce  them  true, 
beautiful,  or  good.  From  the  essential  nature  of  con- 
ception   we   are  able  to   reach,  in  a  general  way,  the 

s  within  which  this  quality  must  be  sought. 


'  With  this  developmeut,  compare  Hodgson,  Theory  of  Practice,  i. 
pp.  250-200. 


200  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

1.  Conception  proceeds  by  abstraction,  and  abstrac- 
tion has  been  seen  to  be  the  mental  tendency  to  pursue 
identities  through  the  mazes  of  new  experience.  The 
gratification  of  this  pursuit  of  identities  arises  as  a  feel- 
ing of  pleasure  whenever  two  elements  of  experience 
before  disparate  fall  together  in  a  unity  or  common 
meaning.  Without  such  a  process  of  identifying,  with 
its  accompanying  gratification,  no  conception  whatever 
can  take  place.  One  element  of  conceptual  feeling, 
therefore,  must  arise  from  abstraction,  and  this  element 
may  be  best  characterized  as  the  feeling  of  unity  in  a 
whole. 

2.  But  an  equally  important,  because  opposite,  aspect 
of  conception,  is  generalization  :  the  function  whereby  a 
concept  gets  application  over  a  wider  area  of  experience 
by  a  modification  of  its  content.  In  abstraction  I  pre- 
serve my  concept  and  neglect  all  experience  which  does 
not  illustrate  it ;  in  generalization,  I  accept  my  expe- 
rience and  modify  my  concept  to  include  it.  It  is  a 
mental  tendency  away  from  identity  to  variety  ;  and  its 
gratification  brings  another  element  to  conceptual  feel- 
ing, i.e.,  the  feeling  of  harmony  of  parts. 

3.  The  intension  or  depth  of  a  concept  begets  a 
phase  of  feeling  in  response  to  the  peculiar  qualitative 
or  essential  value  of  it  in  experience  :  while  its  exten- 
sion excites  only  a  feeling  of  its  present  accidental 
application.  Man  in  intension  excites  in  me  the  sym- 
pathetic and  social  feelings  ;  it  indicates  humanity,  with 
the  living  thrill  of  interest  the  word  suggests :  but  man 
in  extension  simply  means  men,  anybody,  everybody, 
commonplace  and  uninteresting.  The  emotion  of  in- 
tension let  us  call  the  feeling  for  meaning,  a  third  essen- 
tial ingredient  in  conceptual  emotion. 

By  meaning  we  mean  interesting  quality,  recognizing 
in  the  word  all  the  springs  of  interest,  intellectual,  emo- 
tional, and  volitional,  already  discussed.     Our  ideals  are 


NATURE  OF  IDEALS.  201 

the  tilings  of  most  absorbing  interest  to  us.  Yet  this 
interest  is  of  a  peculiarly  objective  character,  as  appears 
immediatelj  below. 

The  extension-feeling  seems  to  be  no  more  than  the  simple 
logical  emotion  over  ag;iiu.  It  is  the  emotion  which  ordinary 
judgment  and  assertion  arouse.  "  John  is  a  man,"  is  a  judg- 
ment in  extension  :  its  relational  quality  is  felt,  but  this 
feeling  ceases,  terminates  there,  and  has  no  part  in  the  feel- 
ing of  ideals.  If  I  simply  mean  that  John  is  one  of  many 
men,  knowing  nothing  more  of  John,  then  all  is  said  :  but 
when  I  say  "  John  is  a  grand  man,"  my  word  John  has  in- 
tension, depth,  meaning,  and  I  begin  at  once  to  look — or 
better,  to  feel — toward  ideal  humanity. 

4.  Further,  conceptions  are  objective  in  their  refer- 
ence ;  they  arise  in  the  knowing  function.  They  are 
guaranteed^  as  has  been  said,  by  the  objective  reality  of 
the  elementary  presentations  which  they  include.  Fur- 
ther, this  objectivity  is  not  simply  the  presentative  ob- 
jectivity of  passive  imagination.  It  differs  from  it  in  two 
ways.  In  the  first  place,  the  concept  is  applicable  to  each 
object  of  the  class  it  covers,  while  the  product  of  imagi- 
nation may  be  a  new  and  unheard-of  concoction  of  ele- 
ments. And  in  the  second  place,  the  conception  must 
be  true  in  each  of  its  applications  to  a  consistent  kind  of 
reality-coefficient.  The  conception  horse  applies  to  all 
horses  with  sensational  quality,  the  conception  fiction  to 
all  objects  which  have  only  other  than  sensational  or 
logical  coefficients,  etc.  Consequently,  two  kinds  of  ob- 
jectivity are  felt  to  attach  to  ideals  and  to  be  involved 
in  conceptual  feeling  :  first,  presentative  objectivity  to 
me  (present  also  in  imagination),  and,  second,  the  same 
coefficient  of  reality  to  every  one  else  as  to  me  (not 
found  in  imagination).  Both  these  aspects  may  be 
covered  by  the  phrase  feeling  of  universality :  a  fourth 
ingredient  in  conceptual  feeling. 

Ideals,  therefore,  are  the  forms  tvhich  ive  feel  our  con- 
ceptions 2vovM  take  if  we  were  able  to  realize  in  them  a  sat- 


202  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

isfying  degree  of  unity,  harmony,  significance,  and  univer- 
sality. The  first  two  properties  we  may  call  ideal  yb?'wt, 
the  third,  ideal  meaning,  aud  the  fourth,  ideal  validity. 

Feeling  of  Fitness.  We  are  now  able  to  give  more 
exact  definition  to  the  state  of  consciousness  before 
designated  as  feeling  of  fitness.  It  attaches  to  certain 
images  of  imagination  which  are  available  for  conceptual 
construction  :  namely,  to  those  which  tend  to  take  form  in 
ideals.  It  indicates  promise  of  progressive  idealization 
under  some  or  all  of  the  rubrics  pointed  out  above.  But 
it  precedes  actual  construction,  since  ideals  are  not  posi- 
tive constructions.  If  conception  follows,  then  the  feel- 
ing of  fitness  either  becomes  simple  feeling  of  logical 
relation,  or  it  attaches  in  turn  to  the  new  product  as  far 
as  it  is  felt  to  be  fit  for  further  ideal  construction.  For 
example,  I  feel  that  each  fact  discovered  in  nature  or  the 
laboratory  must  fit  in  a  construction  of  all  similar  facts 
called  a  law  ;  but  when  this  law,  now  a  vague  felt  ideal, 
is  itself  discovered,  then  my  feeling  of  fitness  attaches  to 
it  only  as  it  in  turn  serves  as  an  element  of  a  still  broader 
ideal  of  systematic  science. 

Bain'  draws  out  a  striking  analogy  between  the  process  of 
constructive  imagination  in  working  up  its  material,  and  the 
process  of  muscular  adjustment  to  external  conditions,  in 
which  volition  takes  its  rise.  The  two  are  essentially  one  in 
their  selective  and  more  or  less  tentative  character,  but  they 
differ  in  their  material,  and  in  the  rule  under  wliich  they 
proceed.  Muscular  adaptation  proceeds  under  the  stress  of 
practical  necessity  imposed  by  the  environment :  constructive 
imagination  by  a  law  of  mental  appreciation  which  does  not 
reflect  any  arrangement  or  order  realized  in  nature. 

§  4.  Conceptual  FEELi:^rG  as  Intuition. 

In  this  feeling  of  fitness  for  conception,  we  have  an 
advance  guard,  so  to  speak,  of  the  apperceptive  process 

^  E motions  and  Will,  pp.  374-77. 


FEELING  AS  INTUITIOK  203 

itself.  The  reality  or  trutli  of  conceptions  we  have  seen 
to  depend  upon  the  realit}'  of  the  particulars  involved 
and  upon  the  validity  of  the  laws  of  conception.  Any 
validity,  therefore,  which  attaches  to  general  knowledge, 
as  reached  in  conception — and  there  is  no  other  way  of 
reaching  it — may  be  in  a  measure  prophesied  h\  concep- 
tual feeling.  If  ideals  are  felt  things,  having  their  rise 
in  vague  analogies  of  relation,  analogies  which  we  find  it 
impossible  to  interpret  clearly  in  the  regular  categories 
of  logical  thought — then  such  feelings  may  often  be  the 
only  guide  to  action  and  the  safest  criterion  of  truth. 

By  calling  such  feeling  intuition,  we  simplj'-  mean  to 
say  that  it  carries  the  reality-feeling  by  direct  reference, 
and  not  by  a  constructive  process.  Concej^tion  does  not 
carry  belief,  but  acquires  it  from  perception  :  but  con- 
ceptual feeling  often  carries  a  belief-force  which  over- 
whelms the  grounded  conclusions  of  thought.  It  extends 
to  all  the  varieties  of  conceptual  feeling,  finding  place  in 
art,  in  morals,  in  religion,  in  intellectual  system. 

Here  is  to  be  mentioned  the  strong  intuitive  faculty 
generally  attributed  to  v.-oman :  a  tendency  to  reach 
conclusions  by  "insight,"  as  opposed  to  the  reasoned 
and  slower  attainments  of  man.  It  is  undoubtedly  a 
feeling  of  relations,  depending  upon  great  liveliness  in 
the  sense  of  fitness.  Women  have  ordinarily  a  lively 
imaginative  endowment,  and  great  delicacy  of  general 
sensibility  in  matters  of  fauc}',  taste,  and  fitness  :  gifts 
which  artists  share  with  them.  And  it  is  on!}-  what  we 
would  expect,  that  artists  tend  to  show  other  feminine 
traits  of  character. 


The  place  of  snch  intuition  among  the  methods  of  truth 
is  not  in  place  here  ;  but  it  may  be  said  tliat  tl)cre  is  no 
reason,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  that  such  feeling  may  not 
be  misleading.  The  earliest  feeling  of  reality  has  been  J'oiind 
liable  to  the  rude  shocks  which  lead  on  to  well-grounded 
belief  :  so  this  feeling  for  truth  may  vary  in  value  from  the 


204  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

"brilliant  forecasts  of  an  Agassiz  or  a  Cuvier  to  the  vacillating 
presentiments  of  a  hysterical  girl.'  Such  ei-ror  resides,  how- 
ever, in  the  content,  the  particular  fact,  of  intuition. 

§  5.  Range  and  Kinds  of  Conceptual  Feeling. 

The  various  ideals  to  which  we  find  ourselves  com- 
mitted with  greater  or  less  emotion  may  be  classed 
under  three  heads,  according  to  the  classes  of  data 
which  are  felt  to  be  fit.  The  tendency  to  gratification 
in  the  more  logical  application  of  the  principles  of  unity 
and  variety  is  felt  in  an  ideal  of  system  :  what  we  may  call 
feelings  of  the  systematization  of  truth.  The  principles  of 
progressive  ideal  conception  in  their  application  to  the 
elements  of  personality  lead  us  to  ideals  of  character, 
feelings  for  the  good,  or  ethical  feelings.  A  further  outgo 
of  conception  in  its  felt  grasp  upon  all  the  more  particu- 
lar aspects  of  its  content,  upon  all  possible  objects  of 
feeling,  gives  us  ideals  of  beauty  :  the  cBsthetic  feelings. 
These  may  be  considered  in  turn. 

§  6.  Feeling  for  System  in  Mental  Construction. 

Scientific  System.  The  exercise  of  the  scientific 
imagination  is  accompanied  by  the  scientific  ideal,  and 
its  materials  are  selected  as  fit  to  realize  this  ideal.  Of 
all  conceptual  ideals,  the  scientific  is  most  plain.  Here 
the  criteria  of  unity  and  variety  have  almost  exclusive 
voice,  and  apply  throughout  all  the  kinds  of  relation 
which  arise  in  the  apperceptive  process.  The  ideal  is 
complete  unity  of  conception  in  the  infinite  variety  of 
objective  fact,  and  each  new  generalization  in  any  science, 
as  chemistr}',  biology,  psychology,  is  in  so  far  grati- 
fying as  a  partial    realization  of  it.      The    conceptual 

'  See  Lotze's  interesting  discussion  of  the  intellectual  worth  of  feel- 
ing; Microcosmus,  bk.  ii.  chap.  v.  As  he  says,  the  "  world  of  values" 
(felt)  must  be  explained  by  the  "world  of  forms"  (cognized),  ibid., 
p.  247. 


ETHICAL  FEELING.  205 

feeling,  liowever,  antedates  tlie  actual  construction,  and 
hence  its  presence  in  strength,  if  supported  by  the  other 
elements  of  constructive  imagination,  marks  the  scien- 
tific genius.  The  pleasure  derived  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  systematic  truth,  as  opposed  to  its  anticipation, 
is  a  different  feeling,  i.e.,  simple  relational  feeling.  Yet 
this  latter  is  seldom  unmixed  with  a  further  feeling  of 
meaning  or  fitness  for  yet  new  advance. 

Philosophical  System.  The  same  tendency  of  thought 
urges  us  on  to  the  construction  of  a  system  of  philoso- 
phy in  which  all  the  partial  truths  of  the  various 
sciences,  all  the  facts  which  are  not  accredited  to 
particular  sciences — indeed  all  the  phases  of  reality 
under  whatever  aspect  they  may  be  viewed — are  held  in 
a  single  constructive  effort  of  the  mind.  This  is  a  phi- 
losophy :  absolute  unity  of  ground  and  infinite  variety  of 
application :  the  resolution  of  all  half-truths  in  one 
whole  truth,  the  universe.  No  philosophy  can  com- 
pletely satisfy  the  constructive  ideal  which  does  not 
reach  a  single  all-comprehensive  principle. 

§  7.  Ethical  Feeling. 

Its  Coefficient.  Premising  the  conceptual  nature  of 
the  moral  feelings,  we  may  ask  after  their  peculiarities. 
What  is  their  general  nature,  and  to  what  kind  of  experi- 
ences do  they  attach  ?  Using  the  words  good  and  hady 
to  express  what  we  mean  by  moral  approval  and  dis- 
approval, we  may  examine  consciousness  to  find  their 
legitimate  application.  The  moral  coefficient  is  that  in 
experience  which  leads  us  to  attach  to  it  the  predicates 
good  and  bad  :  it  may  be  called,  for  the  present,  moral 
quality. 

Moral  Quality.  A  rough  generalization  easily  leads 
to  the  conclusion  that  good  and  bad,  in  their  moral  sig- 


206  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

nificance,  attach  only  to  liying  agents.  If  I  say  a  man 
lias  a  bad  character,  I  mean  that  he  is  capable  of  bad  con- 
duct. If  I  say  a  knife  is  good,  I  mean  simply  that  it  is 
useful :  not  that  it  is  moral  at  all.  But  not  all  actions 
are  moral.  Some  actions  are  forced.  I  may  be  driven  to 
perform  an  act  against  my  Avill.  This  is  not  moral.  So 
we  reach  a  further  point,  i.e.,  moral  actions  must  be 
voluntary  acts,  or  acts  of  will,  whatever  will  may  turn  out 
to  be.  Further,  not  all  voluntary  actions  are  moral.  I 
may  dine  at  two  o'clock  or  at  six  ;  I  may  take  my  walk 
north  or  south  :  these  actions  are  morally  indilierent. 
What  further  peculiarity  attaches  to  some  acts  of  will, 
whereby  we  call  them  good  or  bad  ? 

A  reference  to  the  general  psychology  of  conceptual 
feeling,  as  already  developed,  will  throw  light  upon  this 
point.  We  found  the  feeling  for  ideals  to  involve,  in 
its  object,  harmony,  universality,  and  meaning  :  so,  if  the 
moral  feelings  are  rightly  classed  as  conceptual,  only 
those  states  of  will  which  fulfil  these  conditions  in  some 
degree  will  be  found  to  excite  moral  approval  or  disap- 
proval. 

I.  Moral  Quality  as  Harmony.  Acts  of  will  which 
are  moral  can  never  be  taken  out  of  their  environment  in 
consciousness  and  conduct,  and  pronounced  good  or  bad. 
Moral  actions  are  those  which  are  harmonious  with  each 
other  in  reference  to  an  ideal.  A  morally  indifferent  act 
is  an  act  which  stands  alone,  which  is  of  no  value  to 
anybody  except  the  doer,  and  of  no  value  in  the  con- 
ceptual complex  of  the  doer's  progressive  agency.  The 
reason  that  my  dinner-hour  is  indifferent  is  that  it  has 
no  value  to  any  one  but  myself,  and  none  to  myself 
except  my  convenience.  As  soon  as  it  does  become  a 
matter  of  health  to  me,  or  comfort  to  any  one  else,  i.e., 
gets  a  setting  of  relations  more  or  less  conscious,  it  does 
become  moral.     Moral  quality,  therefore,  attaches  to  an 


MORAL  QUALITY.  207 

act  of  will  considered  as  an  element  in  a  complex  of 
interests,  my  own  and  those  of  others.  Moral  predi- 
cates attach  to  certain  felt  possibilities  of  conduct  con- 
sidered in  relation  to  all  other  possibilities  of  conduct. 

It  is  this  aspect  of  the  case  that  men  have  in  view  in 
locating  moralit^^  in  character.'  A  good  man  is  not  a 
man  of  particular  good  acts  only,  but  of  general  pre- 
vailing good  acts,  of  good  character.  This  means  that 
his  acts  of  will  are  so  harmoniously  good  that  they  be- 
speak a  disposition  or  permanent  attitude  of  will.  What 
it  is  that  this  harmony  refers  to  as  the  ideal  good  is  a 
matter  of  further  inquiry. 

II.  Moral  Quality  as  Universality.  The  universality 
of  ethical  feeling  arises  in  consciousness  in  two  new  and 
distinct  forms.  Not  only  is  morality  objective  in  the 
sense  that  others  are  held  by  me  to  the  judgments  that  I 
myself  make ;  the  universality  of  truth  in  general :  but 
the  existence  and  claims  of  others  enter  as  factors  in  the 
content  of  the  feeling  for  m3'self.  The  feeling  of  sympathy 
is  one  of  the  elements  Avhose  satisfaction  this  moral 
satisfaction  as  a  whole  must  include.  And  further, 
simple  disinterestedness,  as  all  conceptual  feeling  in- 
volves it — value  apart  from  gain  or  loss  to  myself— does 
not  here  suffice  ;  but  the  feeling  of  restraint,  constraint, 
ohligation,  takes  its  place.  These  two  factors  may  be 
considered  further. 

A.  Moral  Sympathy.  Moral  sympathy  attaches  ex- 
clusively to  the  idea  of  persons,  and  carries  with  it  the 
notion  of  self.  The  simple  idea  of  suffering  which  was 
found  sufficient  for  sympathy  as  an  expressive  emotion, 
now  gains  its  full  personal  reference.  This  feeling  may 
be   described  as  the  consciousness  of  the  equality  of 

'  Cf.  Hodgson's  admirable  exposition,   Theory  of  Practice,  ii,  pp. 


208  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

individuals  in  reference  to  ideal  good.  The  conceptual 
construction  wliicli  ethical  feeling  anticipates,  proceeds 
out  from  the  postulate  of  a  plurality  of  individual  wills 
acting  in  harmony.  The  ethical  feeling  is  based  on  the 
social  feeling  and  grows  in  generality  with  it. 

The  question  of  altruism  vs.  egoism  already  stated  re- 
ceives here  its  definitive  answer.  Ethical  feeling  cannot  be 
based  simply  on  egoistic  feeliug,  for  tlie  reason  that  the  ethi- 
cal ideal  involves  more  than  individual  interests.  It  is  a 
generalization  away  from  the  individual  agent,  and  by  its 
very  conception  demands  equally  the  consideration  of  the 
interests  of  others.  Even  though  we  should  find  that  simple 
sympathy  arose  psychologically  as  an  exj^ansion  of  personal 
pleasure  and  pain,  still  this  would  not  begin  to  explain  the 
universality  of  the  ethical  consciousness;  simply  because  the 
construction  of  such  egoistic  factors  results  in  a  concept  which 
does  not  arouse  moral  emotion. 

B.  Moral  Authority :  Feeling  of  Obligation.'  The  sec- 
ond aspect  of  moral  universality  is  the  feeling  of  ohliga- 
tion,  or  of  subjection  to  moral  authority.  As  already  said, 
it  is  a  consciousness  of  both  restraint  and  constraint. 
It  is  further  felt  to  be  from  within,  i.e.,  not  to  have  any 
assignable  cause  outside  of  consciousness.  It  restrains 
from  one  course  of  conduct  and  constrains  to  another. 
It  does  not  enter  simply  as  a  possible  alternative  which 
I  may  or  may  not  embrace,  which  may  be  neglected  or 
not  as  I  please ;  but  it  has  an  additional  element  of 
feeling,  the  feeling  covered  by  the  word  ought.  I  may 
go  to  a  lecture  or  not ;  I  ought  to  help  my  poor  neigh- 
bor. This  is  ordinarily  called  the  imperative  aspect  of 
ethical  feeling. 

Ethical  authority  may  be  distinguished  from  several 
other  kinds  of  authority  in  consciousness. 

1.  It  is  not  simply  the  authority  of  truth  over  belief  : 
it  differs  from  conviction  in  that  it  attaches  exclusively, 

'  Cf.  what  is  said  ou  the  feeling  of  responsibility,  below,  Chap. 
XVI.  S  4. 


MORAL  AUTHORITY.  209 

as  lias  been  seen,  to  states  of  will.     The  laws  of  logic 
are  not  the  laws  of  ethics. 

2.  It  is  not  the  autliority  of  fixed  ideas,  whether  they 
be  ideas  of  theory  or  of  action.  For  a  fixed  or  con- 
trolling idea  does  not  admit  the  choice  which  is  felt  to 
constitute  an  act  of  will.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
acts  performed  under  overwhelming  emotion.  The 
feeling  called  freedom,  which  attaches  to  all  acts  of 
will,  is  absent — whatever,  again,  that  may  turn  out  to  be. 

3.  It  is  not  authority  extraneous  to  the  loill  itself. 
Later  analj-sis  will  shoAV  that  nothing  can  influence  the 
will  that  does  not  act  as  an  antecedent  condition  to 
choice,  as  motive.  Moral  authority,  therefore,  must 
enter  somewhere  in  the  complex  conditions  which  issue 
in  an  act  of  will. 

For  these  reasons,  ethical  systems  agree  in  linking  ohli- 
gation  with  freedom.  We  have  only  to  do  witli  the  feelings 
of  obligation  and  freedom  respectively,  not  with  their  ethical 
or  metaphysical  worth  ;  and  it  may  be  well  at  the  outset  to 
emphasize  the  point  that  in  the  following  pages  the  only 
problem  attempted  is  an  analysis  of  the  subjective  moral 
consciousness. 

In  view  of  these  distinctions,  moral  authority  is  seen 
to  be  the  feeling  that  a  peculiar  worth  attaches  to  cer 
tain  motives  or  ends  in  relation  to  other  motives  or  ends. 
This  worth  is  further  not  merely  a  recognized  worth  in 
view  of  an  ideal,  but  a  worth  felt  to  be  imperative  upon 
my  free  choice.  In  other  words,  moral  authority  may 
be  defined,  at  the  present  stage  of  our  inquirj^,  as  a 
feeling  of  an  imperative  to  the  will  to  the  free  choice  of  a 
moral  end.  The  nature  of  the  moral  end  or  ideal  is 
reserved  for  later  remark. 

Upon  this  determination  certain  remarks  may  be 
ventured.  First,  the  imperative  of  the  feeling  of  ob- 
ligation is  an  unconditional  imperative.  While  it  is  true 
that  it  arises  only  in  connection  with  alternative  courses 


210  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

of  action,  yet  when  once  arisen  it  is,  as  an  ought-feeling, 
quite  independent  of  such  connections  and  conditions. 
This  Kant  has  emphasized  by  the  phrase  "  categorical 
imperative."  Second,  the  feeling  of  freedom  before 
alternatives  is  still  present,  even  when  the  moral  impera- 
tive is  clearly  attached  to  one  of  them.  Though  I  feel 
that  I  ought  to  pursue  a  certain  course,  still  I  feel  free  to 
disregard  my  own  moral  injunction  and  pursue  a  differ- 
ent course.  Third,  that  the  ought-feeling  is  always 
relative  to  an  ideal,  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  the  same 
course  of  conduct  is  at  one  time  right,  at  another  wrong, 
or  indifferent.  The  morality,  therefore,  as  already  said, 
covers  the  harmony  of  all  possibilities  with  reference  to 
an  ideal.  And,  fourth,  moral  feeling  always  attaches  to 
the  concrete,  to  particular  acts  of  will.  We  have  no 
■general  feeling  of  right  or  wrong.  "We  may  vainly  at- 
tempt to  depict  the  moral  ideal  as  an  abstract  ideal,  and 
through  it  to  arrive  at  the  sense  of  right  in  the  abstract : 
but  moral  decisions,  as  such,  are  always  decisions  on 
actual  concrete  possibilities.  Moral  authority,  therefore, 
is  the  form  of  all  ethical  feeling :  but  ethical  feeling  is 
more  than  form,  since  the  content  of  an  ethical  decision, 
the  concrete  course  enjoined,  may  vary  even  to  contra- 
diction. 

Ground  of  Moral  Authority.  The  further  question, 
therefore,  arises :  How  can  a  formal  principle  of  the 
activity  of  will  get  its  application  to  concrete  courses 
of  conduct  ?  Why  are  not  all  acts  of  will  included 
in  this  form,  i.e.,  why  are  they  not  all  moral?  How 
can  a  regulative  principle  of  will  get  to  be  a  crite- 
rion of  conduct  ?  Several  possible  answers  may  be 
suggested.     It  may  be  said  : 

1.  There  is  a  conscious  ethical  ideal  or  end  with 
which  possible  alternatives  of  conduct  are  directly  com- 
pared.    This  is  disproved  by  the  fact  that  we  are  not 


MORAL  AUTHORITY.  211 

conscious  either  of  sucli  an  end  or  of  comparing  our 
alternatives  with  it.  There  is  an  ideal,  but  we  cannot 
conceive  it — a  point  made  plainer  below. 

2.  It  may  be  said  that  there  is  a  simple  reaction  of 
feeling,  perhaps  biological  attraction  or  repulsion,  to- 
ward or  from  actions.  This  will  not  do,  for  the  ques- 
tion would  still  remain :  Why,  then,  are  such  reactions 
felt  to  be  imperative  ?  Why  do  some  attractions  and 
repulsions  have  the  ought- feeling,  while  others  do  not  ? 
This  theory  simply  denies  moral  authority  as  a  separate 
kind  of  experience. 

3.  We  may  be  told  that  we  have  a  direct  cognition 
of  moral  quality  in  actions  ;  and  wherever  thus  cognized, 
it  is  felt  as  imperative.  This  will  not  answer,  since  the 
same  acts,  qua  acts,  may  be,  at  different  times,  right, 
wrong,  or  indifferent :  and  to  inquire  into  the  ground  of 
this  difference  is  to  admit  some  criterion  over  and  above 
any  quality  the  individual  act  may  have. 

4.  Ruling  out  these  answers  as  inadequate,  there  is 
only  one  alternative  remaining,  namely,  that  the  deter- 
mination of  conduct  in  the  concrete  as  morally  impera- 
tive takes  place  hy  a  reaction  of  consciousness  upon  a 
group  of  alternatives  in  such  a  way  that  these  alternatives  are 
arranged  in  a  scale  of  values  tuith  reference  to  the  moral 
ideal  and  to  one  another,  the  highest  value  being  approved  as 
7'elatively  right,  and  iJie  others  disapproved  as  relativdy 
wrong. 

In  this  position,  it  is  seen,  the  determination  of  the' 
imperative  is  a  relative  determination  ;  a  determination 
of  the  adjustment  of  particular  alternatives  to  each 
other  as  regards  worth  for  an  ideal.  In  other  words, 
the  particulars  are  the  material  of  different  degrees  of 
fitness  for  a  generalization.  That  generalization — could 
we  make  it — would  be  the  moral  ideal,  and  the  peculiar, 
feeling  of   approval    or   disapproval  of  the  most  fit  in 


212  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

possible   conduct    carries  with   it   also   tlie   feeling   of 
oughtness. 

It  may  be  said,  in  regard  to  such  a  solution,  that  it  leaves 
the  main  question  unanswered,  the  question  as  to  how  a 
formal  principle  of  oughtness  gets  application  :  that  it  does 
no  good  to  widen  the  reference  of  the  imperative  to  a  group 
of  particulars  which  have  moral  worth  relatively  to  each 
other.  But  this  objection  holds  only  if  certain  such  groups 
have  moral  predicates  while  other  groups  have  not — as  we 
found  certain  courses  of  conduct  indifferent  while  others  are 
not.  Now  this  is  not  true.  No  such  groups  of  alteruatiyes 
are  morally  indiffereut.  Indifference  here  means  relative 
Tightness.  My  decision  to  dine  at  six  o'clock  is  indifferent  as 
a  single  act,  but  it  is  not  indifferent  as  a  relative  act.  Eela- 
tively,  I  do  right  in  dining  at  six,  as  I  would  also  do  right  in 
dining  at  two.  In  the  relations  of  my  conduct  to  any  inter- 
ests, there  is  only  one  act,  dining,  and  it  is  indifferent;  as 
soon  as  any  other  interests  become  alternative  to  my  dining 
at  two  or  six,  my  dining  is  a  moral  act.  The  question,  why  it 
is  that  certain  alternatives  take  rank  as  morally  fitter  than 
others,  belongs  under  the  wider  question  of  the  nature  of  the 
moral  ideal. 

The  conclusion  on  moral  authority  is,  therefore,  with 
Butler  and  Sidgwick,  that  it  is  psychologically  "ultimate 
and  unanalyzable."  Why  there  should  be  an  ought-feeling  in 
connection  with  states  of  will  is  as  inexplicable  as  the  states  of 
■will  themselves  are.  Both  the  elements  of  ethical  universality 
mentioned  are  recognized  by  Sidgwick,'  who  uses  the  word 
objeciivify  to  express  the  essential  presentativeness  of  moral 
distinctions.  The  term  "  conceptual"  answers  the  purpose  as 
well,  and  at  the  same  time  suggests  the  ideal  reference  of 
oughtness,  to  which  Sidgwick  does  distinct  injustice.  This 
objective  or  universal  value  of  moral  feeling  is  emphasized 
under  the  phrase  "  practical  reason"  by  idealistic  thinkers, 
and  under  that  of  right  and  wrong  "cognitions"  or  ''judg- 
ments" by  intuitionists." 

Conclusion  on  Moral  Coefacient.  In  regard  to  the  sub- 
jective side  of  moral  quality — the  conscious  feeling  of 
the  presence  of  the  right  or  wrong — we  are  now  able  to 
speak  more  definitely.     Negatively  it  may  be  said  : 

•  Methods  of  Ethics,  4th  cd.,  chap.  in.     Cf.  above,  Nature  of  Ideals. 

*  Calderwood,  Handbook  of  Moral  Philosophy,  chap.  ii. 


MOBAL   COEFFICIENT.  213 

1.  Moral  quality  does  not  attach  to  single  pictured 
alternatives  or  ends  as  such.  An  end  is  nothing  apart 
from  the  will  whose  end  it  is ;  it  is  an  end  only  as  it  is 
set  up  by  an  agent.  To  the  artisan,  a  penknife  is  an 
end  for  construction.  We  cannot  say  that  moral  quality 
attaches  to  the  penknife,  for  it  does  not  exist ;  nor  to  the 
conception  of  the  penknife,  for  it  may  be  either  right  or 
wrong  for  him  to  make  a  penknife.  The  moral  judgment 
does  not  arise  till  we  know  more  about  the  case :  the 
relation  of  this  end  to  other  ends  he  might  pursue,  and 
his  own  relation  to  other  men. 

2.  It  does  not  attach  to  motives.  The  ordinary  phrase 
"good  or  bad  motives"  is  misleading  and  inexact.  For 
a  motive  is  simplj^a  moving  influence  and  may  be  either 
a  coDScious  pictured  alternative,  an  end,  or  a  vague  af- 
fective or  organic  motor  influence,  an  aflect.  The  former 
has  already  been  ruled  out.  The  latter  does  not  answer 
the  general  criterion  of  moral  conduct,  that  it  be  the 
outcome  of  free  choice.  Such  affects  are  seen  in  impulse, 
in  animal  instinct,  in  insanity  ;  conditions  to  which  no 
moral  worth  is  attached. 

3.  It  does  not  attach  to  actions ;  actual  volitions  as 
such  ;  for  they  are  right,  wrong,  or  indifferent.  We  say 
we  must  know  why  a  man  did  so  and  so  before  we  pass 
judgment  upon  him. 

More  aflirmatively,  therefore,  w^e  may  conclude,  in 
conformity  with  the  determination  already  reached,  that 
the  moral  coefficient  is  the  feeling  of  an  attitude  of  the  ivill 
toivard  or  from  one  of  alternative  courses  of  conduct  as  rela- 
tively fit  or  unfit  for  construction  in  a  moral  ideal.  And 
this  fitness  is,  as  far  as  can  be  discovered :  first,  the  de- 
gree in  which  a  course  of  conduct  is  felt  to  harmonize 
with  most  interests,  to  be  approved  by  others  as  well  as  by 
myself,  and  to  be  imperative,  though  not  executive,  upon 
my  choice. 

The  moral  coefficient  is  thus  seen  to  have  two  sides,  a 


214  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

suhjective  and  an  objective  side.  Subjeetiyelj  it  is  an  ap- 
proving attitude  of  will  witli  felt  obligation,  all  that  is 
meant  by  tlie  word  ought :  objectively,  it  is  harmony  and 
universality,  what  is  meant  by  the  word  right.  About 
the  ought,  the  above  is  all  that  we  have  to  say  ;  it  is  an 
ultimate  category  of  feeling,  whatever  its  origin  may 
have  been.  As  to  the  right,  certain  rules  of  conduct  are 
found  below,  which  find  their  highest  expression  in  the 
Christian  principle  of  love,  the  Golden  Eule.  It  em- 
bodies the  moral  ideal,  the  next  topic  of  treatment,  as 
far  as  the  ideal  is  a  matter  of  conception. 

III.  Moral  Ideal:  the  Ethical  End.  Of  the  elements 
found  necessary  to  ideals  generally,  that  is,  necessary  to 
conceptual  feeling,  meaning  w^as  included  no  less  than 
harmony  and  universality.  Having  now  looked  at  the 
elements  of  harmony  and  universality  involved  in  ethical 
feeling,  it  remains  to  consider  the  element  of  meaning. 
To  draw  again  a  distinction  already  made,  not  the  spec- 
tator's point  of  view  alone  must  be  consulted,  but  the 
composer's,  the  constructing  agents  ;  in  this  case,  the 
doer's  point  of  view.  If  I  would  do  right,  what  kind  of 
a  pattern  or  end  do  I  set  myself  ? 

Notion  of  End.  In  the  treatment  of  the  motor  aspects 
of  ideal  feeling  below,  the  conception  of  end  becomes 
familiar  ;  yet  here  it  is  necessary  to  point  out  and  em- 
phasize certain  distinctions.  An  end  is  that  which  I 
consciously  present  to  myself  for  possible  pursuit.  It 
must  be  clearly  distinguished  from  motives,"  which  are 
any  influences  whatever  that  may  come  to  bear  on  the  will, 
whether  they  be  consciously  presented  or  not.  Only  some 
motives  are  ends.     Further,  an  end  does  not  always  carry 

'  This  distinction  is  shown  by  Sidgwick  (loc.  cit.,  pp.  38,  39),  follow- 
ing  Butler,  to  be  a  necessary  one,  whatever  our  ethical  theory  may  be. 
Even  the  hedonist  (see  below)  makes  some  distinction  between  impulse 
and  more  or  less  reasonable  purpose. 


THE  ETHICAL  END.  215 

the  presentation  of  self  ;  a  child  has  an  end  when  it  imi- 
tates the  movements  of  its  nurse,  before  it  gives  evidence 
of  reflection  upon  its  own  mental  states.  Consequently 
there  may  be  a  great  many  ends  in  consciousness  at 
once  ;  which  means  that  the  end  is  distinct  from  voli- 
tion.    Volition  is  the  choice  of  a  particular  end. 

Subjective  vs.  Objective  Ends.'  In  saying  that  an  end 
must  be  consciously  presented,  it  is  further  meant  to  ex- 
clude organic  and  biological  results  which  seem  to  us  to 
be  due  to  presentation  or  purpose.  The  physical  organ- 
ism is  full  of  adaptations  all  supposed  to  minister  to  the 
greatest  pleasure  and  to  i3roduce  the  least  pain.  Yet 
pleasure  and  pain  are  not  necessarily  the  ends  of  our 
voluntary  physical  activities.  In  order  to  become  subjec- 
tive ends,  they  must  be  pictured  as  the  objects  of  the 
voluntary  process ;  other Avise  being  organic,  they  are  a 
form  of  objective  end. 

Equally  objective  are  the  speculative  ends  which  phi- 
losoj)hers  find  in  nature  as  a  whole  ;  design  in  nature  or 
teleological  ends :  immanent  development  of  an  absolute 
principle  in  nature  ;  ends  of  self-realization.  The  psychol- 
ogy of  subjective  ends  has  nothing  to  do  with  such 
determinations. 

This  distinction  cannot  be  too  carefully  weighed,  because 
of  the  waiitoii  viohition  of  it  in  cei'taiii  ethical  discussions. 
The  child  reaching  for  its  food-bottle  may  not  picture  the 
pleasure,  aud  it  may  not  picture  itself;  it  may  picture  only  the 
bottle.  The  organic  end  is  the  gi-atification  of  appetite,  and 
this  results  in  pleasure  ;  the  cosmic  end  may  he  equally  pres- 
ent; but  the  conscious  end  may  terminate  short  of  both  of 
them.  The  violation  of  this  distinction  is  a  case  of  the 
"  psychologist's  fallacy."  We  adults  have  learned  that  the 
organism  is  an  adaptive  tiling;  that  nature  has  ends;  that 
the  fittest  forthe.se  ends  survive:  and  so  we  read  into  the  child- 
consciousness  the  intentions  which  we  tliink  must  be  those  of 


'  Question  of  subjective  end  vs.  question  of  Suvimum  Bonum,  cf. 
Sidgwick,  Methods  of  Ethics,  4th  ed.,  p.  3. 


216  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

nature.  Even  though  it  were  granted  that  all  voluntary  ac- 
tion arose  and  survived  by  exclusive  reference  to  pleasure  or  to 
self-realization,  yet  it  would  be  a  patent  fallacy  to  say  that  the 
only  voluntary  end  is  either  of  them — that  consciousness  has 
all  along  been  versed  in  our  biology  or  our  speculative  ethics, 
and  has  aimed  to  fulfil  the  one  or  the  other.  Consciousness 
has  no  inkling  of  the  dvvafiis  of  Aristotle,  or  the  conatus  of 
Spinoza,  or  the  tried  of  Wundt  and  Schneider;  of  the  "  strife 
for  existence"  of  Spencer,  the  theoretic  "  reverence  for  law" 
of  Kant,  the  "self-realization"  of  Green,  or  the  dialectical 
*'  becoming "  of  Hegel.  Let  us  discover  these  things  if  we 
may,  but  do  not  let  us  say  that  a  man  is  not  moral  unless  he 
have  a  realizing  sense  of  them. 

Moral  vs.  Natural  Ends.  A  further  distinction  is  pos- 
sible between  ends  which  are  accompanied  by  moral 
feeling  and  ends  which  are  not.  The  latter  are  important 
for  the  psychology  of  volition  ;  they  are  the  indifferent 
ends  already  spoken  of,  and  may  be  designated  natural. 
Only  moral  ends  concern  us  in  the  theory  of  ethical 
emotion. 

Theories  of  Moral  End.  The  question  of  the  moral 
ideal,  then,  becomes  this  :  is  there  a  subjective  moral  end 
called  the  "  good,"  which  the  right-doer  sets  before  him  ; 
and  if  so,  what  is  it  ?  A  variety  of  answers  have  been 
proposed  in  the  history  of  ethics.  Considered  psycho- 
logically, we  may  classify  them  as  affirmative  and  nega- 
tive answers,  i.e.,  those  which  attempt  to  justify  a  par- 
ticular conception  of  the  moral  ideal,  and  those  which 
do  not. 

I.  Affirmative  Theories:  1.  Happiness  Theories.  A 
general  class  of  theories  affirm  that  happiness  is  the  eth- 
ical end.  The  happiness  theory  is  denominated  Eu- 
daimonism  or  Hedonism.'  In  favor  of  a  happiness  theory 
of  the  moral  ideal,  several  lines  of  argument  are  his- 
torical, each  upheld  by  a  school  of  ethical  thought. 

1  The  difference  between  these  two  words  is  about  that  between  the 
English  equivalents,  happiness  (evdaijuovia)  and  pleasure  {r/Sovrj'), 
or  higher  and  lower  enjoyment. 


THEORIES  OF  ETHICAL  END.  217 

Arguments,  or.  We  are  told  that  happiness  is  the 
most  natural  and  spontaneous  object  of  pursuit ;  that, 
while  all  other  ends  have  to  be  justified  to  consciousness, 
happiness  needs  no  such  justification.  It  is  an  implanted 
principle,  the  love  of  pleasure  ;  and  volition  is  only  fol- 
lowing the  example  set  by  organic  nature  in  pursuing 
hap]3iness.      So  the  ethics  of  Naturalism. 

h.  Again,  it  is  contended  that  happiness  and  well-being 
go  hand  in  hand.  Happy  states  are  healthy  states,  and 
this  holds  of  will  as  well  as  of  all  other  states  of  con- 
sciousness. The  law  of  life  and  development,  therefore, 
is  the  law  of  happiness :  so  Egoistic  Hedonism.  Further, 
our  intellectual  life  is  a  progressive  developing  prin- 
ciple ;  its  implicit  end  is  self-realization  ;  and  self-realiza- 
tion comes  by  the  gratification  of  the  higher  nature  of 
self,  by  happiness.  So  the  Eudaimonism  of  Subjective 
Idealism. 

c.  Yet  again,  what  is  true  of  the  individual  holds  a 
fortiori  of  the  race.  Men  are  social  by  nature.  Society- 
develops  by  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number.  Happiness  is  the  general  end  of  humanity. 
So  Universalistic  Hedonism.  And  this  union  of  individuals 
is  possible  only  by  reason  of  an  universal  consciousness 
which  is  realizing  itself  through  us.  Happiness,  grati- 
fication, is  the  law  not  only  of  self-realization,  but  of  the 
realization  of  absolute  reason.  So  the  Eudaimonism  of 
Absolute  Idealism. 

Reply.  In  reply  to  these  positions,  in  the  outcome  of 
which  empirical  naturalism  and  speculative  idealism  are 
in  unusual  alliance,  it  may  be  said  : 

a.  If  happiness  be  individual  egoistic  happiness,  it 
comes  in  conflict  with  the  happiness  of  others.'     Nature, 

'  This  position  is  adverted  to  below  under  the  headings  Desire  and 
Motive.  For  the  best  examination  of  the  egoistic  basis  of  hedonism,  see 
Sidgwick,  loc.  cit.,  bk.  i.  chap,  iv,  also  bk.  ii. 


218  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

then,  simply  affords  a  tlieatre  for  warring  interests,  and 
so  does  consciousness,  unless  we  deny  the  sympathetic 
feelings  altogether.  This  may  be  true  of  organic  ends 
in  nature,  but  it  satisfies  neither  the  moral  nor  the 
philosophic  consciousness. 

h.  If  happiness  be  the  happiness  of  the  greatest  num- 
ber (universalistic),  it  is  either  consistent  with  individual 
happiness  or  it  is  not.  If  it  be  consistent  with  individual 
happiness,  then  we  go  back  to  egoistic  hedonism  to  get 
.  our  criterion ;  if  not,  then  we  have  no  means  of  know- 
ing what  actions  of  individuals  will  conduce  to  general 
happiness,  i.e.,  we  lack  an  end  altogether.  General  hap- 
piness may  be  the  organic,  natural,  objective  end ;  but 
as  subjective  end  its  only  formula  is  an  analogy  from 
individual  happiness. 

The  appeal  of  Mill '  to  sympathy  as  the  "  ultimate  sanc- 
tion of  the  greatest  happiness  morality"  is,  therefore,  vain; 
for  though  we  may  find  in  sympathy  the  means  of  bringing 
the  interests  of  the  community  into  the  consciousness  of  the 
individual,  we  still  lack  means  of  interpreting  those  interests 
apart  from  the  conscious  experience  of  the  individual  as 
felicific  or  otherwise. 

c.  The  moral  imperative  often  comes  into  direct  con- 
flict with  the  natural  pursuit  of  happiness  ;  it  seems  to 
enjoin  the  subordination  of  personal  pleasure  to  the  hap- 
piness of  others.  Such  a  conflict  would  be  impossible 
if  personal  happiness  were  the  suhjective  end. 

d.  No  help  is  reached  by  a  qualitative  distinction  be- 
tween lower  and  higher  happiness  (qualitative  eudaimon- 
ism"),  higher  happiness  being  the  highest  good.  For 
how  can  we  distinguish  happiness  as  higher  and  lower  ? 
Only  by  some  criterion  or  standard  of  reference  back  of 
happiness. 

'  J.  S.  Mill,  Utilitarianism,  chap.  iii. 
"J.  S.  Mill. 


THEORIES  OF  ETHICAL  E^^D.  219 

e.  We  cannot  accept  gratification  with  self-realization 
as  the  subjective  end  ;  for  if  we  really  pursue  gratifica- 
tion, it  is  an  end  and  not  a  means,  and  we  fall  back  into 
egoistic  hedonism.  But  if  we  pursue  self-realization, 
we  have  no  right  to  interpret  it  exclusively  in  terms  of 
gratification  ;  indeed,  our  moral  approval  attaches  con- 
sistentlv  to  acts  of  self-denial  which  bring  no  evident 
gratification,  except  the  gratification  of  the  moral  im- 
pulse, to  anybody.  If  we  endeav-or  to  hold  the  two  no- 
tions together,  with  Green,  and  make  the  end  gratifica- 
tion as  tending  to  self-realization,  then  we  distinguish 
kinds  of  gratification  qualitatively  again  with  Mill.  How 
do  we  know  what  gratifications  tend  to  realize  self  ?  The 
same  is  the  result  if  we  make  moral  gratification  the 
only  legitimate  gratification. 

2.  Utility  Theories.  A  second  class  of  theories  make 
the  ethical  ideal  some  form  of  the  useful.  Right  conduct 
is  always  useful,  and  useful  conduct  is  always  relatively 
right.  Historic  Utilitarianism  has  taken  one  of  three 
forms  :  it  may  become  a  broader  statement  of  eudaimon- 
ism,  by  construing  the  useful  as  that  kind  of  conduct 
which  brings  happiness  to  somebody ;  or  it  may  stand 
for  self-realization,  by  construing  the  useful  as  that  which 
is  beneficial,  whether  it  be  pleasant  or  not ;  or,  finally,  it 
may  refiise  to  construe  the  term  useful  in  any  exclusive 
way,  meaning  the  useful  in  general — either  the  detached 
and  accidentally  useful,  or  the  coordinated  and  cosmi- 
cally  useful. 

Criticism.  1.  On  Utilitarian  Hedonism,  the  above 
general  criticisms  of  hedonism  hold.  If  I  pursue  the 
useful  in  order  to  get  the  pleasant,  my  end  is,  after 
all,  the  pleasant. 

2.  As  regards  utility  as  self-realization  the  question  of 
a  criterion  at  once  arises.  Happiness  Avill  not  do,  as  we 
have  seen,  as  a  criterion  of  conduct  which  realizes  self. 


220  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

Cliaracter  or  virtue  as  an  end  for  self  to  realize  sounds 
plausible,  but  what  kind  of  character  ? — and  what  acts 
tend  to  virtue  ?  The  only  answer  is,  satisfy  your  con- 
science ;  but  I  could  do  this,  and  would  as  well,  if  I 
knew  nothing  about  the  law  of  self-realization.  My 
principle  has  accordingly  given  me  no  information,  and 
I  have  to  resort  to  experience  for  concrete  decisions,  as 
before. 

There  is  here,  however,  the  case  of  those  who  make  truth 
to  conscience  their  end,  i.e.,  absolute  fidelity  to  what  light 
one  has : 

"  To  thine  own  self  be  true 
And  thou  hast  done  with  fears." 

— as  Swinburne  and  Emerson  are  fond  of  telling  us.  Bat 
this  "conscientiousness"  asserts  an  ideal  of  execution — an 
attitude  toward  the  right — rather  than  the  determination 
of  what  is  right.  As  Sidgwick  noints  out,  the  fanatic  is  no 
more  right  because  he  is  cock-sure  of  it,  and  so  over-scrupul- 
ous about  observing  it. 

3.  On  utility  considered  as  cosmic  progress,  it  may  be 
said  that  it  gives  no  practical  criterion  of  conduct,  unless 
there  be  in  the  individual  some  response  of  a  peculiar 
kind  to  the  progress  in  which  he  shares  ;  but  to  consider 
ethical  feeling  such  a  response,  while  perhaps  philo- 
sophical in  itself,  is  worthless  for  the  psychology  of 
moral  ends.  For  the  question  then  is  :  What  particular 
form  in  consciousness  does  universal  progress  assume, 
what  presented  form,  as  object  of  pursuit?  What  con- 
crete action  is  the  conscious  equivalent  of  cosmic  prog- 
ress ?  The  other  alternative,  that  the  moral  is  the  acci- 
dentally useful,  is  only  another  statement  of  the  doctrine 
of  naturalism.  Our  moral  nature  does  not  approve  what 
is  accidentally  useful  in  conduct. 

The  Evolution  Ethics  belongs  in  one  or  other  of  these  cate- 
gories. Either  evolution  is  teleological,  an  end-process,  or  it 
is  a  process  of  growth  by  happy  accidents.    If  it  is  teleological, 


THEORIES  OF  ETHICAL  E^^D.  221 

and  moral  feeling  is  the  conscious  reflection  of  this  progress, 
then  either  natural  biological  ends  state  the  whole  case,  or 
cosmic  progress  itself  is  the  end.  But  the  first  clashes  with 
moral  feeling,  and  the  second  gives  it  no  criterion.  And  if 
evolution  is  not  teleological,  concrete  utility  or  egoistic  he- 
donism should  satisfy  the  moral  consciousness.  Further,  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  inherited  experiences  of  utility,  as  claimed 
by  Spencer,  would  help  the  case.  For  even  if  it  be  granted 
that  the  feeling  of  oughtness  has  arisen  from  race-experiences 
of  utility,  still  in  the  individual  consciousness  there  is  no 
knowledge  of  it  ;  it  is  only  the  philosopher  who  sees  in  all  his 
moral  judgments  a  higher  utility.  The  subjective  end,  the 
pictured  end,  may  be  the  hurtful,  and  the  fact  is  not  altered 
whatever  derivation  we  may  give  to  it.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  utility  is  applicable  to  all  of  nature's  ends,  but 
it  is  pretty  evident  that  I  do  not  share  all  of  nature's  ends, 
and  that  I  have  some  little  ends  which  I  can  find  no  evidence 
that  she  shares.  It  is  probable  that  the  economy  of  nature 
includes  my  morality  ;  but  yet  I  cannot  accept  the  e  onomy 
of  nature,  as  I  understand  it,  as  doing  justice  to  my  moral 
needs.  To  repeat  an  earlier  warning,  we  must  not  confuse 
extraneous  ends,  either  organic  or  speculative,  Avith  the  con- 
scious subjective  end.  It  is  the  fundamental  confusion  of 
such  opposed  thinkers  as  Spencer  and  Caird. 

General  Criticism.s  of  Hedonism  and  Utilitarianism.' — 
a.  A  further  criticism  of  both  these  classes  of  theories 
may  be  drawn  from  the  fact  that  they  rest  the  case  upon 
experience.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how*  experiences  either  of 
happiness  or  utility  could  give  rise  to  the  universality — 
the  imperative  character — which  we  have  found  attach- 
ing to  ethical  feeling.  Why  do  I  hold  other  men  amen- 
able to  my  decisions  of  right  and  wrong  ?  Their  pleasure 
and  profit  might  be  different  from  mine. 

b.  If  moral  feeling  results  from  a  series  of  consistent 
pleasurable  or  useful  actions,  why  do  not  all  such  series 
of  consistent  pleasurable  or  useful  actions  become 
moral?  Suppose  all  my  ancestors  had  found  it  pleasant 
and  useful  to  dine  at  six,  and  I  myself  had  likewise,  it 

'  For  del  ailed  criticism  of  the  view  that  pleasure  is  the  object  of  all 
desire,  see  the  section  on  Desire,  below,  Chap.  XIV.  §  2. 


222  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

would  not  on  tliat  account  be  wrong  for  me  to  sacrifice 
the  advantage  and  dine  at  two. 

This  is  the  same  difficulty  we  have  found  attaching  to  em- 
pirical derivations  of  space  and  time.  If  any  series  whatever 
of  intensive  sensational  data  get  arranged  in  space  and  time 
order,  all  such  series  ought  to  ;  but  they  do  not.  So  if  moral 
feeling  results  from  pleasure  and  pain  series,  all  pleasure  and 
pain  series  ought  to  have  some  show  of  morality  about  them  ; 
but  they  have  not. 

Mill '  endeavors  to  meet  this  objection  to  Bentham's  utili- 
tarianism by  holding  that  such  experience  begets  "habits," 
which  habits  are,  like  Hume's  "custom,''  a  "new  state  of 
feeling,"  i.e.,  ought.  In  other  words,  I  no  longer  need  to 
prove  the  act  useful  and  thence  judge  it  right  ;  I  have  come 
to  feel  it  right.  Spencer  attempts  the  same  by  his  resort  to 
race  experience.  But  this  only  means  that  for  my  acts,  the 
ought-ieeling,  and  not  the  useful  results,  is  my  criterion. 
The  ought-feeling  may  have  arisen  in  the  progress  of  evolu- 
tion, as  far  as  this  point  is  concerned,  because  it  is  a  use- 
ful feeling  ;  but  the  law  of  survival  is  sufficient  to  prove  it  to 
be  clearly  differentiated  from  the  utility-feeling.  As  Hodgson* 
shows,  the  utility  theory  can  only  be  a  theory  of  ethical 
judgment,  not  of  the  immediate  feeling,  which  oughtness  is. 

c.  Both  these  theories  fail  to  recognize  the  spontaneity 
of  moral  emotion.  They  introduce  calculation  and  dis- 
cussion into  conduct.  Conscious  moral  decisions,  how- 
ever, generally  lose  in  clearness  and  certainty  if  we 
weigh  the  pros  and  cons.  In  matters  of  conduct,  first 
thoughts  are  usually  best  thoughts. 

d.  It  is  difficult  to  give  any  meaning  to  the  feelings 
of  responsibility,  sense  of  wrong-doing,  and  remorse,  on 
either  of  these  theories.  If  a  man  acts  for  happiness  or 
utility  and  does  not  get  it,  he  has  simply  made  an  error 
of  judgment.  Regret  or  sorrow  would  be  the  only  emo- 
tion experienced.^ 

'  Utilitarianism,  chap.  ii. 

^  Loc.  cit.,  II.  p.  46. 

2  Cf.  Green,  Introduction  to  Hume,  vol.  ii.  pp.  13-16. 


THEORIES  OF  ETHICAL  END.  223 

3.  Formal  or  Kantian  Theory.  According  to  Kant, 
tlie  moral  law  is  tlie  ethical  end  ;  right  conduct  is  con- 
duct performed  from  reverence  for  the  moral  law. 
Morality  enjoins  such  acts  as  tend  to  the  universal  ob- 
servance of  law.  Upon  this  theory  the  following  points 
may  be  made. 

Criticism,  a.  It  requires  a  statement  or  definition  of 
the  moral  law  as  a  subjective  standard  of  reference  for 
conduct.  Such  a  statement  or  definition  must  take  the 
form  either  of  generalization  from  concrete  cases  of  felt 
imperative  oughtness,  or  of  a  command  upon  the  will 
from  some  extraneous  source.  The  latter  we  have  seen 
to  be  impossible  :  the  will  can  be  influenced  only  through 
motives.  And  a  generalization  from  concrete  cases  of 
obligation  we  have  seen  to  be  equally  illusory.  The 
imperative  proceeds  by  a  new  relative  adjustment  of 
alternatives  for  every  act  of  choice  ;  not  by  a  comparison 
of  each  alternative  with  an  abstract  statement  or  law. 
This  difficulty  is  such  an  evident  and  practical  one  that 
every  moralist  encounters  it  in  endeavoring  to  draw  an 
adequate  general  formula  of  duty, 

h.  Admitting  the  formal  imperative  as  the  law  of  will, 
the  question  of  its  possible  apj^licatiou  has  already  been 
discussed.  We  have  found  such  an  application  possible 
only  on  the  ground  of  an  attitude  of  will  toward  its 
present  alternatives  as  relatively  more  or  less  fit  for  ideal 
construction.  What  is  universal  is  the  form — the  im- 
perative feeling ;  not  the  content — the  criterion.  The 
content  is  particular  in  the  first  place  and  remains  so  in 
the  last  place,  and  the  attempt  to  give  it  universal  state- 
ment as  law  is  speculative  and  foreign  to  the  sponta- 
neous ethical  consciousness. 

c.  The  last  criticism  is  practically  admitted  by  Kiint 
in  his  attempt  to  state  the  law,  i.e.,  "  So  act  that  the 
maxim  of  thy  conduct  may  be  fit  for  universal  accept- 


224  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

ance."     In  other  words,  act  with  an  eye  on  the  conse- 
quences. 

d.  As  the  experiential  theories,  so  the  formal  theory 
opens  the  door  for  deliberation  and  destroys  the  spon- 
taneity of  moral  feeling. 

II.  Negative  Theories  of  the  Ethical  Ideal.  A  class 
of  ethical  theories,  further,  assert  that  there  is  no  single 
adequate  statement  of  the  ethical  ideal  or  end.  Of  these 
the  following  are  typical. 

1.  Intuitional  Theories.  Some  intuitive  or  "  common- 
sense"  thinkers  hold  that  we  have  no  single  absolute 
conscious  standard  of  moral  feeling,  but  that  we  have  im- 
mediate or  intuitive  cognition  of  moral  quality  in  acts. 
Such  intuitions,  although  given  on  occasion  of  concrete 
choices,  nevertheless  have  the  value  of  absolute  laws  of 
conduct.  The  moral  standing  of  a  given  alternative  of 
action  is  ascertained  by  the  application  to  it  of  one  of 
these  moral  intuitions. 

Criticism.  In  spite  of  many  excellences  which  will 
suggest  themselves,  this  theory  is  inadequate  for  the  rea- 
sons below. 

a.  We  have  failed  to  find  the  stable  moral  quality  in 
acts  which  such  intuitions  require. 

h.  The  facts  do  not  sustain  the  universality  claimed 
for  such  intuitions ;  the  laws  of  veracity,  homicide,  etc., 
are  not  universal,  but  relative.  Hume  is  right  here.  It 
does  not  do  to  say  that  conscience  has  been  perverted, 
and  hence  the  disagreements  between  races  and  individ- 
uals ;  for  to  admit  that  some  are  depraved  is  to  deny  the 
only  consensus  possible  to  prove  their  uniformity.  We 
must  take  conscience  as  we  find  it,  not  as  we  wish  it 
were,  in  dealing  with  the  psychology  of  man  as  he  is. 

c.  These  intuitions  are  singly  inadequate,  as  is  seen 
in  their  possible  conflicts,  as  between  justice  and  mercy 


THEORIES  OF  ETHICAL  END.  225 

and  in  their  historical  development.     The  condemnation 
of  polygamy  and  slavery  is  an  historical  growth. 

2.  Belative  Theories.  Relative  theories  have  in  com- 
mon the  denial  of  the  universality  of  the  ethical  content 
or  ideal ;  while  they  may  or  may  not  admit  the  univer- 
sality of  the  formal  imperative  or  feeling  of  oughtness. 
In  regard  to  the  latter  question,  the  foregoing  discussion 
has  been  sufficiently  explicit ;  our  conclusion  was  that 
an  unconditional,  absolute,  and  imperative  feeling  of  uni- 
versality attaches  to  our  distinctions  between  right  and 
wrong.  It  remains  to  show  that,  while  the  form  is  thus 
universal,  the  content  is  not.  My  ethical  consciousness 
tells  me  universally  that  I  ought  to  do  right,  but  it  does 
not  tell  me  universally  ivhat  I  ought  to  do,  to  do  right.  In 
every  dilemma  I  may  be  in,  it  is  a  question  as  to  what, 
which  I  ought  to  choose  ;  not  whether  I  ought,  after  I 
have  chosen. 

Conclusion  on  Ethical  Ideal  as  End.  If  Avhat  has  been 
said  about  moral  quality  and  authority  be  true,  the  doc- 
trine of  end  is  plain.  The  content  is  given  in  concrete 
acts  ;  it  is  a  relative  content.  The  form  is  given  as  an 
universal  imperative.  The  form  cannot  be  end ;  that 
would  be  tautology,  i.e.,  I  ought  to  do  what  I  ought. 
But  an  adequate  content  as  universal  end  demands  a 
perfect  generalization  of  possible  concrete  choices, 
which  is  impossible.  Hence  there  is  no  universal  sub- 
jective end. 

The  examination  of  the  foregoing  theories  has  made 
it  clear  tliat  the  traditional  statements  of  the  schools  are 
inadequate.  And  it  follows  from  a  sufficient  understand- 
ing of  the  nature  of  conceptual  feeling,  that  all  state- 
ments of  the  ethical  ideal  must  lie  inadequate.  Fitness 
for  an  end  cannot  mean  adequate  embodiment  oi  that 
end ;  no  one's  alternatives  of  conduct  can  cover  the  whole 


226  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

of  the  possible  fields  of  adjustment  of  wills  to  one 
another  in  a  developing  social  organism.  The  ethical 
ideal,  therefore,  as  far  as  it  is  conscious,  is  the  degree  of 
harmony  and  universality  in  conduct  ivhich  IJind  my  emo- 
tional nature  responding  to  with  imperative  urgency.  As 
an  ideal,  it  is  relative  and  changing  in  the  life  of  the 
individual  and  of  the  race ;  yet  that  embodiment  of  it 
to  which  the  indi\ddual  or  the  race  at  any  time  responds 
is  of  absolute  and  unequivocal  validity  then  and  there. 

The  highest  embodiment  of  the  ethical  ideal  is  the 
conception  of  the  character  of  God.  This  does  not  give 
a  statement  of  the  ethical  ideal,  however,  for  the  con- 
ception of  God  as  a  perfect  being  is  of  a  character  which 
realizes  our  moral  predicates  to  perfection,  and  as  such 
shifts  with  our  development  and  that  of  the  race.  In- 
stead of  the  end  consisting  in  our  conception  of  God's 
character,  the  reverse  is  true.  God's  character  to  us  re- 
sults from  our  conception  of  the  moral  end. 

Rules  of  Conduct.  There  are,  therefore,  valid  rules 
of  conduct  which  are  imperative  upon  the  individual, 
not  because  they  are  universal  statements  of  the  ideal, 
but  because  they  generalize  our  concrete  intuitions  of 
the  right.  They  are  the  objective  side,  mentioned  above, 
of  the  moral  coefficient.  The  worth  of  each  of  them, 
however,  in  any  case,  depends  upon  its  support  from 
the  moral  consciousness  in  that  particular  case.  Such 
principles  are  the  so-called  laws  of  the  practical  moral- 
ist :  veracity,  temperance,  prudence,  mercy,  forgiveness, 
etc.  These  rules  are  absolutely  binding  wherever  the 
moral  consciousness  gives  them  an  application  ;  but  they 
are  not  applied  by  the  moral  consciousness  universally. 
For  instance,  veracity  is  sometimes  subordinated  to  a 
higher  demand  of  ethical  feeling,  such  as  loyalty,  hu- 
manity, or  charity. 


MORAL  JUDGMENTS.  227 

Such  exceptions  are  rare,  however,  in  liomogeneous  society, 
and  it  is  a  question  whetlier  tlie  objective  demand  for  uni- 
formity does  not  become  in  most  cases  a  balancing  motive  for 
the  maintenance  of  common  standards:  tliere  is  a  tendency 
of  our  moi'al  nature  to  rest  satisfied  with  convention.  Yet 
the  possibility  of  transcending  these  general  rules  of  con- 
tent is  always  open,  and  the  denial  of  moral  progress  is  the 
price  of  its  denial.  Moral  progress,  like  intellectual  progress, 
is  a  matter  of  broader  conceptual  outlook  upon  conditions  of 
greater  social,  as  well  as  personal,  complexity;  and  there  is 
no  reason  in  the  psychology  of  the  case  that  there  should  not 
be  progressive  moral  insight — broader  statements  of  the  ethical 
consciousness  at  different  epochs — and  broader  consciousness 
of  the  need  of  such  statements  in  individuals.  Indeed,  it 
must  bo  so,  and  this  is  only  to  say  from  the  point  of  view  of 
psychology  wliat  we  are  told  unequivocally  from  the  point  of 
view  of  historical  study. 

The  spontaneous  character  of  ethical  feeling  brings  to 
prominence  what  was  said  above  of  conceptual  feeling  as 
intuition.  Intuition  here  is  felt  conviction,  anticipation  of 
truth  by  vague  analogies  of  relation,  which  is  not  itself 
understood.  In  matters  of  right  and  wrong,  as  in  matters 
of  assthetic  feeling,  such  intuition  is  the  only  guide  we  have. 
In  the  anticipation  of  logical  truth,  it  may  be  supported  or 
revised  by  conscious  reasoning;  but  in  ethical  and  aesthetic 
matters  only  the  intuition  of  another  can  overcome  or  justify 
it.  If  women  served  on  juries,  criminals  Avould  have  a  better 
chance.  The  broadest  and  truest  statement  of  the  ethical 
law  is  the  Christian  law  of  Love;  but  an  important  element  of 
its  truth  is  that  it  admits  of  progressive  interpretation. 

In  actual  life  our  choices  rest  usually  between  two  rules 
which  contain  all  the  rest,  i.e.,  justice  and  sympathy,  both  of 
which  we  feel  must  tend  to  happiness.^  Sympathy  is  right; 
it  is  an  essential  element  in  the  moral  coeflficieiit;  it  is  the  in- 
dividual side  of  social  feeling.  And  justice  is  right;  it  is  the 
general  disinterested  side  of  social  feeling.  As  to  which  pre- 
vails, that  depends  upon  the  character,  as  emotional  or  stern, 
not  u{)on  any  rational  solution.  One  often  feels  that  it  is  a 
question  of  a  right  and  a  more  right;  the  relativity  of  the 
decision  seems  to  work  up  into  consciousness. 

Moral  Judgments.  It  is  in  the  conscious  application  of 
these  rules  of  conduct  to  particular  actions  that  the  ethical 
emotions  take  on  the  form  of  judgment,  i.e.,  "this  act  of 

'See  Hodgson's  fine  discussion,  loc.  ciL,  p.  40,  and  context. 


228  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

veracity  is  right,"  or,  generally,  "  veracity  is  riglit."  Sucli 
judgment,  like  all  judgment,  is  the  assertion  of  the  rela- 
tions implicit  in  concej^tiou.  Ethical  judgment  is,  there- 
fore, the  belief  form  of  the  ethical  ideal  as  far  as  its 
elements  are  conceived.  Just  as  belief  in  external  reality 
takes  the  form  of  judgment,  or  assertion  of  the  sensa- 
tional coefficient ;  and  belief  in  logical  reality,  that  of  the 
logical  coefficient ;  so  ethical  judgment  is  the  assertion  of 
belief  in  the  presence  of  the  ethical  coefficient  or  moral 
quality.  Both  moral  and  aesthetic  feelings  are  anticipa- 
tive,  while  the  corresponding  judgments  are  more  or  less 
retrospective. 

Psychologically,  the  clearest  exhibition  of  moral  judg- 
ment is  felt  after  moral  hesitation  and  indecision.  The  pro- 
cess of  synthesis  of  motives,  called  below  "volitional  apper- 
ception," '  results  in  a  moral  assertion  or  judgment  which 
represents,  not  one  of  the  motives  alone,  but  that  motive  in 
the  light  of,  and  as  related  to,  all  the  others.  What  we  have 
called  "intention,"  therefore,  comes  to  apply,  as  Sidgwick 
gays,''  to  "  all  the  consequences  of  an  act  which  are  foreseen 
as  certain  and  probable;"  as  distinguished  from  motive, 
which  applies  only  to  the  desired  consequences.  For  ex- 
ample, I  decide  to  go  gunning  on  Sunday  morning  rather 
than  go  to  church.  I  feel  not  only  reponsible  for  my  motive, 
the  getting  of  sport  on  Sunday,  but  also  for  the  injustice  I 
have  done  in  rejecting  the  opportunity  for  spiritual  improve 
ment,  i.e.,  for  my  intention. 

Conscience,  In  the  word  conscience,  the  ethical  con- 
sciousness has  its  broadest  characterization.  Conscience 
may  mean  and  does  mean  three  very  distinct  things ; 
three  things,  however,  so  essentially  one  as  a  mental  fact 
that  the  use  of  a  single  word  to  cover  them  has  its  full 
justification.  If  we  cut  the  mental  life  right  through  at 
the  moment  of  positive  ethical  feeling,  getting  a  section 
of  the  mental  stream,  so  to  speak,  showing  all  that  is  felt 
at  that  moment,  this  section  is  conscience.     The  three 

1  Below,  Chap.  XVI.  §  1. 
^Loc.  cit.,  4th  ed.,  p.  203. 


co:ssciENCE.  229 

portions  of  the  section  correspond  to  the  three  determina- 
tions we  have  already  made,  i.e.,  moral  quality,  moral 
autJwrify,  and  moral  ideal. 

Let  us  take  a  concrete  case  of  action  from  conscience  : 
I  give  money  to  a  beggar  because  I  am  bound  by  con- 
science to  do  so.  The  moral  quality  of  my  act  is  my 
feeling  of  its  harmony  with  my  better  acts  as  a  whole,  and 
the  exaction  I  make  upon  other  men  to  be  charitable 
also  ;  without  this,  conscience  would  be  wanting — the  act 
would  be  indifferent.  The  moral  authority  of  the  act  is 
the  feeling  which  at  once  arises  that  this  quality  has  an. 
immediate  reference  to  m.j  will.  I  am  bound  to  choose 
it  as  my  act ;  without  this,  there  is  no  conscience — con- 
science is  dead.  The  moral  ideal  is  the  outreach  of  my 
feeling  toward  a  state  of  will  in  which  such  a  relative 
and  hesitating  decision  would  yield  to  clearer  and  more 
direct  moral  vision  ;  a  state  of  will  which  I  cannot 
picture,  cannot  conceive,  but  which  I  feel  my  will  is 
meant  for,  and  for  which  I  feel  my  present  act  for  con- 
science sake  is  the  only  means  to  prepare  me. 

Consequently,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  individ- 
ual consciousness,  conscience  is  a  spontaneous  reaction  of 
approval  or  disapproval  of  one  of  alternative  ends,  as  of 
higJier  relative  excellence  with  reference  to  an  ideal  unseen  but 
imperatively  enjoined. 

So  far  the  psychology  of  moral  emotion,  which,  with  the 
psychology  of  the  will,  constitutes  the  psychological  basis  of 
ethics.'     The  further  problems  of   the  validity  or  objective 

'  While  the  treatment  above  is  quite  independent,  its  outcome  in  its 
philosophical  bearings  is  similar  to  the  doctrine  of  ilerbart,  its  ethical 
implications  are  nearest  the  teaching  of  Sidgwick,  and  in  psychological 
detail  it  indorses  in  many  points  the  analysis  of  Hodgson.  The  simi- 
larities to  the  last-mentioned  author's  positions  are  so  evident  that  the 
writer  is  only  just  to  himself  in  saying  that  the  text  was  written  in  sub- 
stance for  university  lectures  before  Hodgson's  Theory  of  IVaciice  (u- 
chaps.  i-ii;  fell  into  his  hands. 


230  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

grounding  of  ethics,  the  place  of  ethical  values  in  a  philosophy 
of  knowledge,  though  belonging  to  ethics  proper,  are  not  with- 
in our  sphere.  Three  distinct  questions  remain  to  ethics, 
points  where  our  psychological  determinations  must  give  to 
philosophy  a  further  justification  of  their  existence:  first,  what 
is  the  meaning  of  the  relative  H'orllis,  which  we  spontane- 
ously assign  to  alternative  ends  ?  Have  they  or  have  they 
not  meaning  and  wortli  in  a  developing  cosmos  as  a  whole  ? 
Second,  wliat  is  the  authority  of  the  moral  imperative,  the 
ought,  and  whence  is  it  derived?  Is  it  or  is  it  not  the  form 
which  the  imist  of  natural  law  takes  on  when  consciousness 
appears  upon  the  scene  ?  And  third,  is  the  moral  ideal  es- 
sentially an  illusion  of  my  conceptual  faculty,  or  is  there 
an  ultimate  reality  whose  rightness  will  both  satisfy  and  com- 
plete my  feeble  gropings  after  righteousness?  Ethics,  there- 
fore, has  three  great  questions,  each  dealing  both  with  a  feeling 
and  with  a  fact,  and  the  systems  which  neglect  any  one  of  the 
three  fails  of  its  task;   i.e., 

Feelings 


I  I 

Ought  Fitness  End 

I  I  I 

Duty  Right  Good 

Facts 

In  a  later  connection  the  discussion  of  the  ethical  impulse 
will  engage  our  attention.  It  is  sufficient  now  to  say  that, 
like  all  emotions,  the  ethical  have  an  outgoing  value  which 
rests  in  impulse.  Calling  it,  for  the  present,  "love  of  the 
good,"  we  see  in  it  the  ground  of  obedience  or  disobedience  to 
the  authority  of  the  ethical  imperative.  That  such  a  spring 
of  action  is  real — w^hether  derived  or  not — the  difference  be- 
tween logical,  aesthetic,  and  ethical  feeling  is  sufficient  to 
prove.'  We  are  constrained  to  do  the  right  in  a  sense  differ- 
ent from  that  in  which  we  act  on  the  consistently  true  or  the 
formally  beautiful. 

Ethical  Feeling  and  Happiness.  The  examination  of 
Hedonism  above  raised  the  question  of  the  true  relation 
of  happiness  to  the  ideal  element  in  conceptual  feel- 
ing.    The  statement  of  the  question  from  the  point  of 


'  Compare  on  this  point  the  discussion  between  Martineau  and  Sidg- 
wick  in  Mind,  xi  and  xii. 


MORALITY  AJSW  HAPPIJVESS.  231 

view  of  conceptual  feeling  in  general  is  intentional ;  for 
we  are  tlius  able  to  view  it  apart  from  tlie  more  par- 
ticular reference  to  ethical  discussion.  In  the  light  of 
later  treatment  of  sBsthetic  feeling,  it  is  clear  that  happi- 
ness is,  in  the  first  place,  simply  the  tone  of  these  emo- 
tions, as  it  is  of  others.  The  object  which  arouses  logi- 
cal feeling — systematic  truth — is  quite  different  from  the 
pleasure  I  feel  in  it :  the  pleasure  is  part  of  the  feeling, 
not  of  the  object  of  the  feeling.  So  the  object  which 
excites  my  feeling  of  beauty  is  different  from  my  enjoyment 
of  it.  The  case  is  exactly  the  same  for  ethical  feeling, 
unless  it  can  be  shown  that  the  object  is  itself  always  a 
state  of  pleasure  or  pain — a  happiness  theory  of  the 
ethical  ideal.  It  is  no  argument,  however,  to  say  that 
happiness  is  alwaj-s  present  in  ethical  feeling  ;  so  it  is  in 
logical  and  aesthetic  feeling :  nor  that  most  happiness  is 
secured  in  the  long-run  by  right  conduct ;  that  only 
means  that  the  satisfaction  arising  from  one  impulse  is 
more  important  in  the  long-run  than  that  arising  from 
others,  or  that  happiness  is  the  organic  immanent  end 
of  mental  development.  These  might  be  facts  on  any 
theory.' 

As  a  matter  of  consciousness,  pictured  pleasure,  as 
a  motive,  seems  to  enter  the  lists  on  an  equal  footing 
with  other  motives,  as  candidates  for  moral  approval.  It 
may  get  moral  approval,  for  no  other  interest  may  rank 
above  it  in  my  present  choice.  But  the  pleasure  thus 
morally  pursued  is  quite  different  from  the  pleasure 
which  arises  from  consciousness  of  right ;  for  if  I  do 
right  for  the  sake  of  my  own  approbation,  I  have  a  clear 


'  This  point  is  recognized  acutely  by  Sidgwick,  who  distinguishes 
happiness  as  the  "  outcome,"  viewed  objectively,  from  happiness  as  the 
Individual  end  ;  yet  his  phrase  "  psychologic-il  hedonism"  for  the  for- 
mer doctrine  is,  I  think,  uiif(jrtunatf,  for  it  tends  to  keep  up  the  confu- 
sion between  subjective  and  objective  ends.     Loc.  cit.,  pp.  42-44. 


232  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

feeling  tliat  my  ideal  lias  vauislied  and  that  I  have 
missed  the  happiness  I  craved.' 

Put  in  terms  of  end,  happiness  may  be  (1)  a  subjective 
natural  end,  and  as  such  become  morally  right;  (2)  the  organic 
and  cosmic  end,  and  as  such  justify  morality  in  the  long  run; 

(3)  the  subjective  moral  end,  in  which  case  it  is  morally  wrong; 

(4)  simple  tone,  an  ingredient  of  ethical  feeling,  not  an  end  at 
all.  Yet  it  is  a  peculiar  fact  that  we  often,  in  imagining  an  act, 
wait  for  the  feeling  of  moral  pleasure  as  an  indication  of  its 
Tightness  before  we  embrace  it  cordially.  Instead  of  the 
moral  being  pursued  for  the  sake  of  the  happiness,  here  is 
the  turned-table  of  the  happy  pursued  for  the  sake  of  the 
moral  ! 

It  is  a  common  observation  that  happiness  pursued  is, 
when  reached,  not  worth  the  pursuit.  This  is  easily  explained 
when  we  remember  that  happiness  is  not  itself  the  outcome 
of  a  particular  function,  but  merely  the  tone  of  consciousness 
throughout.  To  pursue  happiness  is  to  do  violeuce  to  the 
function  from  which  it  normally  results.  A  strict  analogy  is 
found  in  the  physical  functions.  Nature's  design  is  that  the 
heart  should  beat  i-egular  and  strong.  She  secures  this  by  my 
enjoyment  of  physicrd  exercise.  Suppose  I  set  about  pursuing 
the  same  end,  to  improve  the  heart-action :  I  can  do  so  more 
directly  by  taking  drugs.  But  the  result  is  soon  disastrous. 
So,  undoubtedly,  morality  is  the  happiest  course;  it  brings 
into  harmony  a  number  of  impulses  each  having  its  tone,  and 
adds  the  satisfaction  of  a  new  impulse,  the  moral.  Further, 
moral  feeling  attaches  only  to  moderate  well-adjusted  activity, 
which  is  a  condition  of  pleasure.  But  as  soon  as  I  set  about 
the  pursuit  of  happiness,  I  destroy  all  this  ground  of  it,  and 
lose  both  the  morality  and  the  happiness.  "  We  realize  the 
good  by  conforming  to  the  right.*' ^ 

Emotions  Akin  to  the  Moral.  Around  the  fundamental 
moral  emotions  cluster  a  number  of  more  special  and 
complex  feelings.  Moral  approval  and  disapproval  of 
others  in  different  degrees  becomes  moral  praise  and 
hlame,  moral  respect  and  contempt,  moral  reverence  and 
disgust:  applied  to  self,  they  are  feelings  of  good  conscience 

'  On  the  development  of  the  moral  feelings,  see  Sully,  Outlines,  pp. 
560-67,  and  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  3d  ed.,  p.  285  f. 

'  F.  L.  Patton,  Syllabus  of  Ethics  (printed,  not  published). 


uSSTHETIG  FEELING.  233 

and  remorse,  moral  hope  and  despair.  These  latter  take 
on  peculiar  forms  when  complicated  with  the  knowledge 
that  others  know  and  judge  our  case,  i.e.,  moral  pride 
and  shame.  These  two  feelings  are  the  most  powerful 
and  lasting  of  our  moral  nature,  as  witness  the  aggravated 
punishment  of  the  "  Brand  of  Cain"  and  the  "Scarlet 
Letter."  They  bring  all  the  motive  and  emotional  force 
of  the  sympathetic  nature  to  reinforce  the  intrinsic  sanc- 
tions of  duty.  Other  forms  of  the  ethical  emotion  whose 
factors  suggest  themselves  readily  are  repentance,  moral 
penance,  moral  7-estitution  ;  and  moral  cowardice  and  hesi- 
tation, on  one  hand,  contrasted  with  moral  courage  and 
resolidion  on  the  other.  The  great  class  of  rdigioiis  feel- 
ings are  also  most  closely  connected  with  ethical  emotion 
and  rest  upon  it. 

Adequate  treatment  would  inchide  at  thispoiut  an  analysis 
of  the  religious  consciousness.  The  limits  of  our  plan  do  not 
permit  an  attempt  lit  it;  but  it  may  be  well  to  suggest  that  such 
an  analysis  is  a  desideratum  in  psychology,  especially  as  eluci- 
dating the  social  aspect  of  religious  emotion.  References  to 
writers  on  the  general  subject  are  given  at  the  end  of  the 
chapter. 

§  8.  Esthetic  Feeling.' 

In  beauty,  the  elements  of  what  we  call  the  ideal  seem 
at  the  outset  to  be  most  fully  set  forth.  The  simplest  em- 
pirical observation  of  beautiful  things  suffices  to  illustrate 
the  necessity  of  both  unity  and  variety  in  form  in  any  ob- 
ject to  which  M^e  attach  this  predicate.  There  is  no  beauty 
when  unity  is  absolute,  and  it  is  only  when  arrangement  is 
possible  to  a  degree  which  allows  a  distinction  between 
variety  which  is  yet  unity,  which  has  a  plan,  and  variety 
which  is  multiplicity,  which  has  no  plan — that  any  such 
feeling  arises  at  all.      It  is  equally  evident,  also,   that 

'  On  the  relation  of  the  aesthetic  to  the  ethical  feelings,  seethe  refer- 
ences given  by  Sully,  Outlines,  p.  557. 


234  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

meaning,  significance,  contributes  to  sestlietic  effect. 
The  beauty  of  a  landscape  is  cold  and  formal  until  the 
smoke  of  a  peasant's  hut,  or  the  spire  of  a  country 
church,  is  added  to  give  it  a  touch  of  human  interest. 
The  village  green  has  more  meaning  than  snow-clad 
Alps.  And,  further,  we  feel  the  essential  sharableness, 
universality,  validitj',  of  all  beauty.  I  expect  a  face  to 
appeal  to  you  as  it  appeals  to  me. 

While  all  beauty,  thus,  has  the  ideal  character, 
and  is  for  that  reason  conceptual,  yet  it  is  well  to  dis- 
tinguish two  kinds  of  aesthetic  emotion ;  that  which  at- 
taches to  more  sensuous  experience,  and  is  almost  exclu- 
sively/ormaZ,  and  that  which  attaches  to  more  representa- 
tive experiences,  as  ha\dng  meaning.  Following  Wundt, 
the  former  may  be  called  loioer,  and  the  latter  higher, 
aesthetic  feeling. 

I.  Lovtrer  Esthetic  Feeling.'  It  is  difficult  to  deter- 
mine when  the  sense  of  the  beautiful  begins  in  child- 
life.  The  expression  of  such  a  sense  is  for  a  long  time 
simpl}^  the  ordiuarj^  expression  of  pleasure, — smile,  active 
muscular  movements,  etc.;  and  the  presumption  is  that 
simple  pleasure  is  all  there  is  to  express.  Yet,  by  in- 
quiring into  the  effects  upon  the  child  of  objects  other- 
wise indifferent,  expressions  due  to  form  alone  may  be 
isolated.* 

The  objective  character  of  aesthetic  impressions 
leads  us  to  look  uj)on  sight  and  hearing,  the  most 
presentative  senses,  as  the  exclusive  organs  of  sensuous 
beauty.  The  objective  form  of  sounds  is  time,  and 
those  of  sight  are  time  and  space.     The  formal  element, 

'  For  interesting  treatment  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  aesthetic  feel- 
ing for  form,  see  Lotze,  Microcosmus,  bk.  v.  chap.  ii. 

'  Spencer  bases  the  sesthetic  upon  the  play-instinct  so  early  exhibited 
by  children  {Psych.,  ii.  part  viii).  Sully's  objections  to  such  a  deriva- 
tion may  be  read  with  profit  {Outlines,  p.  233,  note). 


ESTHETIC  FEELING.  235 

tuerefore,  in  all  aestlietic  feeling,  is  unity  and  variety 
in  time  and  space  relations. 

Further,  in  both  time  and  space  a  distinction  may 
be  made,  with  Hodgson,'  between  static  and  dynamic 
relations.  Sounds  which  occur  simultaneously,  and 
space-relations  which  are  perceived  to  be  stationary, 
are  called  static  ;  sounds  following  one  another,  and 
space  relations  which  change  through  physical  move- 
ment, are  dynamic.  The  ordinary  words  for  these  two 
qualities  are  repose  and  movement. 

As  regards  time-relations,  music  is  the  purest  and 
most  adequate  illustration.  In  the  choixl,  the  static 
quality  is  illustrated.  The  variety  of  auxiliary  tones 
is  held  in  a  unity  dominated  by  the  fundamental.  The 
single  tone  in  ordinary  instruments  is,  further,  a  static 
effect,  since  in  it  there  is  also  a  variety  of  secondary  or 
over  tones  which  give  to  it  its  peculiar  timbre.  In 
general,  musical  harmony  is  the  static  form  of  the 
aesthetics  of  time.  The  dynamic  element  in  the  aes- 
thetic feeling  of  time-relations  is  presented  by  rhythm, 
complex  transitions,  beat,  measure,  movement.  It  pre- 
sents the  formation  and  resolution  of  harmonies  in  a 
series  of  effects,  which,  while  themselves  static  alone, 
yet  are  united  in  the  flow  of  the  composition  as  a  whole 
or  of  portions  of  it.  This  dynamic  aspect  of  the  case 
is  known  in  music  as  melody.^ 

The  aesthetic  effect  of  ninsio  is  almost  entirely  a  matter  of 
time  foi-m.  The  question  of  DWdniny  in  music,  of  the  possi- 
bility of  conveying  emotional  affections  through  variations  in 
harmony  ami  melody,  is  referred  to  below.  It  is  clear,  liow- 
ever,  that  the  main  and  usual  beauty  of  music  is  due  to  the 
distinct  differentiation  of  sound-elements,  as  simultaneous  or 
successive,   which   the   auditory   a])paratus   makes   possible; 

'  Theory  of  Practice,  i.  p.  186. 

^  On  the  physical  basis  of  both  these  qualities,  harmony  and  melody, 
see  the  remarkable  work  of  Helmholtz,  Sensations  of  Tone  (Eng.  trans., 
Ellis,  2d  ed.). 


236  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

together  with  the  possibilities  of  union  of  these  sensational 
elements  secured  by  tlie  activity  of  the  auditory  centre.  In 
other  words,  music  is  mainly  a  physical  sensational  effect. 
In  poetry,  on  the  contrary,  the  form,  while  important,  is 
subordinate  to  the  meaning,  as  appears  below. 

In  regard  to  relations  of  space,'  the  distinction  be- 
tween static  and  dynamic,  between  rest  and  movement, 
is  equally  plain.  Architectural  beauty  illustrates  the 
former ;  beauty  of  wheels  in  motion,  birds  in  flight, 
the  intricate  evolutions  of  the  dance  and  the  drill,  illus- 
trate the  latter.  Considering  the  static  quality,  the 
question  arises :  What  relations  of  space  are  aestheti- 
cally most  pleasing  ?  In  plane  figures,  richness  of  divi- 
sion, together  with  e^ddent  simplicity  of  plan,  is  the  aes- 
thetic desideratum.  A  square  inscribed  in  a  circle  is  more 
pleasing  than  either  the  square  or  the  circle ;  but  two 
overlapping  equilateral  triangles  in  a  circle  present  still 
greater  attractiveness.  Investigations  have  been  made 
into  the  most  tasteful  laws  of  longitudinal  and  vertical 
division.  For  the  best  effect,  longitudinal  division 
should  be  either  perfect  symmetry  (bisection  about  a 
vertical  axis)  or  some  proportion  well  away  from  sym- 
metry. Zeising's  principle,  called  the  "golden  cut," 
is  that,  in  horizontal  di\dsion,  the  longer  part  (b)  should 
be  a  mean  proportional  betw^een  the  shorter  (c)  and 
the  whole  (a),  viz.,  the  proportion  a  :b  ::b  :  c  should 
hold.  For  vertical  lines,  it  is  held  that  the  point  of 
division  should  be  two  thirds  to  three  fourths  up  from 
the  bottom,  or  the  same  distance  down  from  the  top^  : 
as  the  arms  on  the  erect  human  body,  or  the  lowest 
broad-spreading  boughs  of  the  arbor-vitae.  The  quality 
in  division  which  excites  aesthetic  feeling  we  may  call 
balance. 


'  On  beauty  of  space-relatious  see  R.  D.  Hay,  First  Principles  of 
Symmetrical  Beauty. 

■2  Cf.  Fecliner,  Vorschule  der  ^Esthetic,  i.  p.  192. 


ESTHETIC  FEELING.  237 

As  regards  plau,  the  question  is  largely  one  of  out- 
line. If  the  divisions  are  pleasing,  in  what  kind  of  an 
outline  shall  the  lines  of  a  design  terminate  ?  The 
attempt  has  been  made,  and  probably  with  some  suc- 
cess, to  connect  the  pleasure  of  outlines  with  the  rela- 
tive ease  or  difficulty  of  the  eye-movements  required  to 
compass  the  figure  in  question.'  The  normal  movement 
of  the  eye,  except  in  its  vertical  and  horizontal  axes,  is  a 
curve  of  gentle  and  somewhat  irregular  curvature."  Hence 
the  general  principle  that  curved  lines  present  a  more 
pleasing  outline  to  the  eye  than  extended  straight  lines. 
And  variations  of  the  same  principle  are,  that  curved 
outlines  are  more  agreeable  when  the  law  of  curvature 
changes  slightly  at  frequent  intervals ;  that  transitions 
should  be  by  curves  rather  than  by  short  turns  or 
angles  ;  and  that  sudden  irregularities  are  allowable  only 
when  they  can  be  brought  under  a  regular  law  of  recur- 
rence, i.e.,  reduced  to  the  general  plan  of  the  design  as 
a  whole."  The  erect  human  form  has  been  considered 
from  antiquity  the  supreme  illustration  of  beauty  of 
form,  as  regards  both  balance  and  outline. 

Put  more  generally,  the  scheme  of  sesthetic  form  for  the 
eye  conforms  approximately  to  the  field  of  vision.  The  ideal 
of  foi-m  is  indicated  by  the  most  facile  and  pleasurable 
adaptation  of  the  eye  at  once  to  detail,  and,  by  easy  transi- 
tion, to  the  plan  as  a  whole.  Yet  even  as  regards  form,  con- 
siderations of  meaning  work  modifications,  as  is  seen  in  the 
lack  of  symmetry  of  vertical  division:  this  pleasurable  effect 
of  asymmetry  is  probably  due  to  the  instability,  under  the 
action  of  gravity,  which  is  suggested  by  vertical  bisection. 
An  lesthetic  vertical  division  either  conforms  to  gravity  by 
avoiding  top-heaviness,  or  defies  gravity  by  asserting  superior 
strength  of  construction,  support,  material,  etc. 

The  conception  of  aesthetic  feeling  as  belonging  in  all 
cases  to  objects,  that  is,  to  presentative  experience,  leads  us 


'  AVundt,  Theorie  d.  Sinneswahrnehmurtg,  p.  140  f. 

'  Principle  of  Listing:  see  llelmholtz,  rhysiologinche  Optik,  p.  457  f. 

3  Cf.  Sully,  mad,  IbSO. 


238  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION, 

to  exclude  from  this  category,  properly  speaking,  the  pleasure 
that  comes  from  certain  intensities  and  qualities  of  sensa- 
tions apart  from  their  space  and  time  form.  Children  in 
their  first  year  show  preference  for  certain  colors,  generally 
red  and  blue,'  before  pleasure  in  forms  becomes  at  all  apparent. 
It  is  perhaps  only  a  matter  of  terms  to  exclude  such  gratifi- 
cation from  the  jBsthetic  category  ;  yet  in  adult  life  we  are 
usually  able  to  distinguish  the  simple  pleasure  of  color  from 
beauty  of  color,  tracing  the  latter  either  to  some  association 
or  to  relations  of  figure,  contrast,  etc.,  which  are  aspects  ot 
time  and  space  harmony.  The  fact,  however,  that  color  is 
given  to  us  originally  in  space-form,  makes  the  distinction 
between  the  two  kinds  of  gratification  liable  to  all  the  diffi- 
culties we  have  already  found  in  distinguishing  between 
objects  as  intensive  sensational  data  and  objects  as  extended 
and  external  things. 

The  graphic  arts  and  sculpture,  called,  as  opposed  to 
music  and  architecture,  the  imitative  arts,  embody 
ideals  of  space-form.  They  are  imitative  only  in  the 
sense  that  they  represent  objects  taken  from  nature ; 
but  imitation  is  altogether  subordinate,  as  is  seen  in 
the  fact  that  only  such  objects  in  nature  are  suited  to 
the  purposes  of  art  which  are  alread}'  recognized  as 
embodying  some  ideal.  A  painter  paints  a  face  either 
for  its  beautiful  form  or  its  beautiful  meaning,  or  both  ; 
if  it  lias  neither,  it  is  not  beautiful  as  a  picture  of  a 
face,  and  hence  is  not  aesthetic,  not  art.  Even  a  por- 
trait must  idealize  somewhat,  to  be  beautiful  and  satis- 
fying. 

Perspective  in  the  graphic  arts  is  the  reduction  of 
space-relations  of  depth  to  the  form  of  the  original 
field  of  vision  in  two  dimensions.  If  it  is  true,  it  con- 
forms to  the  requirements  of  all  spacial  beauty :  it  has 
a  visual  centre  to  which  its  lines  of  direction  converge, 
and  if  there  be  two  or  more  of  these  centres,  they  must 
be  in  turn  subordinate  to  yet  another. 

•  See  the  writer's  experiments  reported  in  Science,  vol.  xvi,  1890,  p. 
248. 


jESTUetic  feeling.  239 

II.  Higlier  JEsthetic  Peeling.  TVe  now  come  to  con- 
sider beauty  apart  from  its  framework  of  sense-percep- 
tion. If  space  and  time  relations  were  all  that  sestlietic 
ideals  included,  beauty  would  be  robbed  of  most  of  its 
power  to  influence  and  gladden  us.  It  is  tlie  meaning, 
the  suggestiveness,  of  art  that  rouses  in  us  feelings  for 
ideals.  This  meaning  is  by  many  writers  simply  made 
convertible  with  the  associations  or  memories  which 
the  beautiful  object  calls  up  :  and  in  many  cases  this  is 
a  sufficient  account.  For  example,  a  building  becomes 
beautiful  when  we  know  that  it  is  a  hospital  for  sick  chil- 
dren. The  knotted  hands  of  a  workman  suggest  a  lif«e- 
time  of  privation,  toil,  and  devotion,  and  rouse  in  us 
emotions  of  respect  and  admiration.  Yet  even  in  cases 
where  simple  association  is  most  conspicuous,  the  sug- 
gestions themselves  involve  ideals  and  seem  to  bring 
them  more  vividly  before  us.  The  suggested  emotion 
does  not  terminate  on  the  building,  but  on  the  ideal  of 
charity  which  it  represents  ;  not  on  the  physical  hands, 
but  on  the  ideal  of  life  which  they  suggest.  Association 
is,  therefore,  not  the  whole  of  what  we  intend  by  the 
word  meaning.  It  is  only  as  associations  themselves 
have  meaning  that  they  enter  into  the  meaning  of  pres- 
ent beauty.' 

In  an  earlier  place,  meaning  was  connected  with 
the  intension  of  concepts.  Intension  includes  all  the 
data  that  we  have  about  objects.  But  we  have  more  data 
about  objects  than  their  simple  presentative  associates ; 
we  have  also  the  feelings,  of  whatever  kind,  which  they 
excite,  and  the  motive  reactions  to  which  they  impel.  All 
these  elements  must  enter  into  the  framework  of  {esthetic 
emotion  in  its  higher  forms,  i.e.,  associative  connections, 
emotional  revivals,  volitional  and  ethical  reverberations. 

*  Cf.  Dumont,  Theorie  Scientifique  de  la  Sensibilite,  pp.  39-42. 


240  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

And  all  this  framework  must  be  conceived  as  representa- 
tive of  unity  in  variety,  harmony,  universality,  in  a  par- 
ticular sphere.  That  is,  higher  aesthetic  feeling  arises 
onlj^  by  the  tendency  of  the  abstracting  and  generaliz- 
ing function  to  transcend  its  immediate  presented  ma- 
terial. The  complete  {esthetic  coefficient,  like  the  ethical 
end,  is  an  ideal  and  cannot,  for  that  very  reason,  be  given 
adequate  formulation.^ 

Beauty  of  Truth.  The  more  intellectual  side  of  the 
sesthetic  feeling  is  seen  in  our  admiration  for  logical  con- 
sistency and  system.  This  feeling  is  quite  distinct  from 
intellectual  emotions  proper.  In  the  latter  we  have 
relations  from  the  producer's,  in  this  case  from  the 
spectator's,  point  of  view.  A  neat  demonstration  is  beau- 
tiful from  an  objective  disinterested  standpoint,  though 
I  may  not  have  the  personal  pleasure  of  thinking  it  out 
for  myself.  Meaning  in  this  case  is  intellectual  meaning, 
while  at  the  same  time  ideal. 

Beauty  of  Character.  By  this  is  m-eant  harmony  and 
proportion  as  prophetic  of  an  ideal  of  emotion  and  will. 
Due  balance  of  pleasures  is  as  necessary  for  character  as 
due  balance  of  members  is  for  truth.  And  the  ethical 
feelings  as  already  sketched  give  controlling  color  to  this 
harmony.  The  most  beautiful  thing  in  the  world  is  a 
man  who  acts  harmoniously  and  consistently  and  truth- 
fully, and  finds  his  most  harmonious  and  consistent 
pleasure  in  such  acts.  The  arts,  therefore,  which  depict 
phases  of  human  emotion  and  conduct  are  the  most 
moving  in  their  effect,  since  they  present  an  ideal  mean- 
ing, which  as  far  transcends  that  of  sensuous  form  as 
human  character  transcends  natural  mechanism. 

'  A  conclusion  reached,  though  for  different  reasons,  by  Gurney, 
Power  of  Sound,  chap.  ix. 


ESTHETIC  JUDGMENT.  241 

The  -Esthetic  Judgment  Universal.  Like  etliical,  so 
lestlietic  feeling  takes  form  in  general  la\^"S  :  canons  of 
taste  and  art.  An  adequate  formulation  of  such  laws 
or  canons  would  bring  esthetic  enjoyment  down  from  its 
ideal  vantage-ground.  Consequently,  a  complete  science 
or  pliilosopliy  of  art  is  unattainable.  As  far,  however,  as 
the  principles  of  aesthetic  form  are  reached  by  empirical 
observation,  they  become  universal  in  the  sense  already 
explained. 

This  universality  in  art  may  be  viewed  under  three 
general  aspects.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  disinterested,  as 
all  realities  grow  more  and  more  to  be.  I  idealize  my 
gratification  and  make  it  others'  gratification  as  well,  be- 
fore I  call  its  object  beautiful.  Second,  it  is  thus  made 
matter  of  assertion,  belief,  judgment.  Beautiful  and 
homely  things  are  realities  in  the  most  intense  way.  We 
have  seen  that  realities  are  the  most  satisfying  experi- 
ences :  and  what  could  be  more  satisfying  than  those 
objects  which  in  a  measure  anticipate  and  gratify  our 
ideals  of  truth  and  life?  And  third,  the  belief-coelficient 
must  be  consistently  maintained  in  all  the  details  of  an 
art  construction.  This  is  the  extent  of  consistency  in  aes- 
thetics. An  anachronism  in  history  or  poetry  violates 
consistency,  because  the  coefficient  of  reality  is  fact  or 
truth.  But  anachronism  in  drama  does  no  violence  to 
'the  a3sthetic  sense,  because  simulation,  pretense,  acting, 
is  the  sort  of  reality  I  go  to  drama  to  find.  The  truth- 
coefficient  is  not  appealed  to,  but  the  imaginative  coeffi- 
cient. Hence  the  "  dramatic  unities  "  are  unnecessary 
limitations.  The  principle  of  consistency  may  be  ex- 
pressed by  saying  that  the  kind  of  reality  which  an  art 
construction  sets  out  to  exhibit  it  must  consistently 
maintain.' 


'  On  sesthetic  judgments  compare  Nahlowsky's  suggestive  treatment, 
Daa  GefuhliUben,  pp.  1G3-73. 


242  EMOTIONS  OF  RELATION. 

Emotions  allied  to  the  iEsthetie.  Tlie  violation  of 
certain  elements  in  tlie  requirements  of  beauty,  while 
the  other  elements  are  present,  gives  rise  to  distinct  emo- 
tions. In  the  comic  we  have  violations  of  the  law  of 
consistency.  The  comic  is  the  aesthetically  abortive. 
A  joke  turns  on  a  misplaced  grammatical  or  logical  rela- 
tion which,  if  properly  placed,  would  have  been  aesthetic. 
A  comic  situation  is  an  incongruity,  where  the  conceptual 
process  demands  congruity  and  anticipates  it.  Hence 
the  elements  of  surprise,  disproportion,  and  disharmony, 
in  all  humor  and  wit.'  The  comic  is  a  matter  largely  of 
meaning.  The  grotesque,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  comic 
of  form.  The  picturesque  illustrates  a  similar  departure 
from  normal  beauty,  but  not  sufficiently  so  to  lead  to 
positive  inconsistency.  It  applies  especially  to  form, 
and  is  found  in  the  bold,  sharp,  irregular,  unexpected  in 
outline.  In  the  sublime,  the  meaning  attaches  to  par- 
ticular feelings,  those  aroused  by  the  large,  massive, 
forceful,  and  destructive  ;  it  seems  also  to  include  a  color- 
ing of  fear  and  awe. 


§  9.  General  Table  of  Feelings.' 

The  more  evident  distinctions  of  quality  in  emotions, 
as  we  have  now  found  them,  in  connection  with  various 
conscious  functions,  may  be  thrown  into  a  table  for  gen- 
eral review  :  it  is  meant  to  be  exhaustive,  but  not  minute. 


'Not  only  is  the  comical  the  unexpected,  as  Dumont  maintains, 
Causes  du  Hire,  but  it  is  that  which  we  have  no  right  to  expect,  which 
we  have  every  right  not  to  expect;  and  negatively,  the  sense  of  fun  often 
arises  from  the  simple  absence  or  failure  of  what  we  do  expect. 
Another  requisite  is  that  the  subject  be  trivial  and  involve  no  important 
consequences.  We  often  say  an  event  would  be  ludicrous  if  it  were  not 
so  serious. 

*  For  other  classifications  the  reader  may  consult  the  references  given 
at  the  end  of  Chap.  III. 


TABLE  OF  FEELINGS.  243 

Qualitative  Feelings 


Sen 

3U0US 

Special 
Sensations 

Of  Acli 

Ideal 

Common 

Common                                Spe^ 

Organic, 
etc. 

Interest  Reality  Belief 
etc. 

Emotions 

vity                                      Of  Content 

Of  Adjustment     Of  Function  Presentatlve    Re 


I 
ational 


Self      Objective  |  | 
^1                 Logical  Conceptual 


I  I 

Expressive  Sympathetic 


Systematic  Ethical  Esthetic 
(Religious) 


On  logical,  ethical,  cesthetic,  and  religious  emotion,  consult:  (ethi- 
cal) Perez,  V Education  des  le  Berceau,  pt.  i.  chap.  7  ;  (formal) 
Waitz,  Lehrbuch,  pp.  295-320;  Wundt,  Phys.  Psych.,  3d  ed.,  ii.  pp. 
209  ff.  and  424  ff.;  Volkmann,  Lelirbtich,  §§133,  134;  (ethical)  Marti- 
neau,  I'ypes  of  Eth.  'Theory,  ii.  bk.  i;  Nahlowsky,  Bas  Oefuhlsleben, 
pp.  157  ff.;  Dumont,  Theorie  de  la  Sensibilite,  pt.  ll.  chap,  v,  il,  rv; 
Sully,  Outlines,  chap,  xii,  and  Pessimism,  chap,  xi;  Spencer,  Psy- 
chology, II.  pt.  IX.  chaps,  v-ix;  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  pp.  215- 
293;  Drbal,  Lehrbuch,  §§  110-113;  James,,  Sentiment  of  Rationality, 
Mind,  IV.,  317;  (aesthetic)  refr.  given  by  Dewey,  Psychology,  p.  325; 
Lotze,  Outlines  of  Esthetics;  Guyau,  Problemes  de  r Esthetique  con- 
temporaine  ;  Bradley,  Ethical  Studies,  iii. 

On  the  comic :  Dumont,  Causes  da  Hire  and  Theorie  de  la  Sen- 
sibilite, pp.  202  f.;  Lemque,  Revue  des  deux  Mondes,  Sept.  1863; 
Hecker,  Physiologie  u.  Psychologie  des  Lachens. 

Further  ProUems  for  Study  : 

Relation  of  resthetic  and  moral  feelings  ; 

Develojiment  of  aesthetic  and  moral  feeling  ; 

Theories  of  the  arts  ; 

Etliical  theories  ; 

The  religious  feelings  ; 

Canons  of  artcritieism  ;  cultivation  of  taste  ; 

Social  obligations  Hn<l  dutii'S  ; 

Psychology  of  crime,  of  punishment,  of  charity. 


CHAPTEK  X. 
quantity  and  duration  of  emotion. 

§  1.  Quantity  or  Intensity. 

Mental  Excitement.  The  most  general  predicate 
which  we  can  make  of  the  states  of  feeling  arising  about 
mental  operations  is  expressed  by  the  term  excitement. 
The  word  means  stimulation,  and  as  physical  stimuli 
bring  about  a  more  or  less  diftused  physical  reaction 
or  bodily  excitement,  so  presentations,  ideas,  stimulate 
higher  states  of  feeling  in  forms  all  of  which  exhibit  the 
diffused  property  called  excitement.  If  we  picture  a 
logical  machine,  with  no  feeling  whatever,  turning  out 
syllogisms,  we  picture  at  the  same  time  the  absence  of 
that  excitement  which  makes  the  mind  in  its  logical 
character  different  from  such  a  machine.  "  Coolness"  is 
the  popular  word — "calmness"  is  more  fitting — to  denote 
the  absence  of  emotional  excitement.  For  the  present, 
we  will  consider  such  excitement  on  its  conscious  side, 
and  call  it  mental,  leaving  the  question  of  its  relation 
to  nervous  diffusion  until  its  inner  aspects  have  been 
pointed  out. 

Relativity  of  Peeling.  The  general  nature  of  feeling, 
as  dependent  upon  physical  and  mental  processes,  ac- 
counts for  its  extreme  variability  in  different  and  in  the 
same  circumstances.  If  feeling  arises  everywhere  in 
consciousness,  the  present  state  of  feeling  must  result 
from  a  great  complexity  of  bodily  and  mental  conditions. 

244 


MENTAL  EXCITEMENT.  245 

The  variability  of  feeling  may  be  spoken  of  under  several 
so-called  principles. 

Principle  of  Contrast.  In  general,  this  principle 
means  that  any  state  of  feeling  is  pure  only  when  it  is 
isolated  as  regards  quality :  it  is  a  general  extension  of 
the  principle  of  contrast  found  in  connection  with  sen- 
sation-qualities.' Such  isolation  is  quite  theoretical ;  but 
any  feeling-quality  stands  clear  only  as  it  does  not  share 
consciousness  with  other  feeling-qualities.  Sounds  are 
louder  and  clearer  during  silence,  colors  are  distinct  and 
well-defined  in  proportion  as  no  other  colors  appeal  to 
the  eye  with  them.  Pleasures  are  more  pleasurable 
after  or  during  pains.  Hopes  and  fears  exaggerate  each 
other.  The  whole  affective  life  is  a  matter  of  contrasts 
of  sensational  and  emotional  qualities. 

In  the  emotional  life  any  regular  observation  of 
contrast  is  impossible,  because  of  the  extraordinary  com- 
plexity and  variety  of  emotions.  Just  as  any  sense-quality 
may  be  modified  by  a  new  or  concurrent  nerve-stimula- 
tion, so  an  emotional  quality  may  be  modified  by  any 
variation  in  the  intellectual  or  ideal  complex  which  con- 
stitutes its  stimulus.  The  principle  of  Hering  cited 
above,  i.e.,  that  the  apparent  union  of  sense-qualities  is 
really  a  union  of  stimuli,  not  of  sense-qualities — aids  us 
also  in  understanding  complex  forms  of  emotion.  We 
cannot  consider  the  half-hope,  half-fear  state  of  mind 
with  which  we  watch  a  friend  who  is  desperately  ill,  as 
being  literally  the  presence  of  two  or  more  qualities, 
hope  and  fear^  influencing  each  other.  That  would 
mean  that  we  had  first  a  clear  picture  of  the  friend's 
death,  then  of  his  health,  and  so  on  in  alternation ;  also 
that  the  two  nervous  processes  were  separated  from  each 
other.  On  the  contrary,  the  state  is  one,  anxiety,  an 
emotion  arising  from  the  intellectual  complex  of  doubt 

'  See  above,  CLap.  IV.  §  1. 


246         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

as  a  whole.  Here  tliere  is  a  mental  compound  or  sum- 
mation, as  in  the  case  of  color-contrast  there  is  a  ner- 
vous summation. 

That  there  is  a  nervous  summation  in  the  emotional 
complex  is  also  true ;  but  from  the  analogy  of  the  foregoing 
treatment  of  feeling,  the  intellectual  summation  is  the  imme- 
diate ground  of  the  complex  emotion.  Of  course  the  conscious 
state  itself  has  a  neural  basis,  and  the  pliysical  expression  of 
emotion  shows  that  the  excitement  has  also.  But  waiviug  for 
the  preseut  the  question  of  cause  and  effect  as  applied  to 
emotion  and  its  expression,  we  still  have  a  right  to  consider 
the  intellectual  complex  as  the  conscious  stimulus  to  the 
emotion,  and  to  find  in  it,  by  analogy  from  Hering's  principle, 
the  ground  of  emotional  contrast. 

Principle  of  Attention.  The  general  law  of  attention 
in  its  relation  to  mental  intensities  has  already  been 
cited :  attention  heightens  the  intensity  of  any  mental 
state.  This  is  especially  true  of  states  of  ideal  feeling. 
It  is  so  easy  for  an  interesting  idea  to  tarry  in  the  focus 
of  consciousness  ;  it  is  so  hard  to  withdraw  a  conception 
which  promises  advantage,  from  our  mind's  considera- 
tion ;  that  the  emotion  which  such  an  ideal  presence 
arouses  becomes  lasting  and  influential.  We  calm  an 
angry  man,  or  an  angry  headache,  by  arousing  interest  in 
a  new  subject ;  we  work  up  curiosity  or  hope  by  keeping 
the  expected  revelation  vividly  forward  ;  we  cure  disap- 
pointed love  and  allay  crushing  grief  by  travel  or  by 
business  details  which  absorb  the  attentive  energies. 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  however,  that  after  an  emotion  has 
reached  a  certain  degree  of  intensity,  the  absence  of  the  ob- 
ject only  inflames  it.  It  is  analogous  to  the  fact  noted  in  con- 
nection with  happiness,  i.e.,  happiness  is  more  acute  in  the 
pursuit  than  in  the  possession.  It  is  probably  due  to  the  dis- 
sociating influence  of  the  imagination,  which  keeps  only  the 
particular  details  to  which  the  emotion  attaches,  in  conscious- 
ness; while  if  the  object  be  actually  present,  extenuating  and 
modifying  features  are  forced  upon  the  attention. 


RELATIVITY  OF  EMOTION.  247 

There  is  a  limit,  however,  beyond  which  we  must 
cease  to  speak  of  the  iulluence  of  attention  upon  emotion 
and  reverse  the  terms  of  the  proposition.  Intense  emo- 
tion bids  defiance  to  the  laws  of  mental  control,  carries 
the  attention  perforce,  and  paralyzes  the  intellectual  life. 
Yet  the  liability  to  this  result  depends  upon  the  quality 
of  the  emotion.  It  is  seen  at  once  that  emotions  which 
depend  upon  complex  constructive  intellectual  processes 
must  be  strongest  when  these  processes  are  at  their 
best.  An  inventor  or  an  artist  feels  most  strongly  when 
he  thinks  most  deepl}" ,  and,  further,  his  emotion  is  a  spur 
to  his  invention.  So  strong  interest,  which  arises  when 
apperceptive  concentration  and  adjustment  are  smooth, 
reacts  to  further  the  play  of  thought.  In  general,  there- 
fore, we  may  distinguish  the  presentative,  expressive, 
and  sympathetic  emotions  as  those  which  interfere  most 
with  thought.  They  present  a  fixed  ideal  content,  an 
image,  a  fact,  an  event,  hold  the  attention  to  it,  and  thus 
obstruct  the  normal  fiow  of  consciousness.  This  differ- 
ent relation  of  various  emotional  states  to  intellection, 
confirms  both  the  principle  of  dependence  of  emotion 
upon  ideation,  and  the  details  of  the  foregoing  classifica- 
tion of  the  emotions. 

Principle  of  Accommodation,  A  corollary  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  contrast  is  found  in  a  class  of  facts  which  show 
the  abatement  of  emotional  excitement  under  long-con- 
tinued stimulation.  Sensuous  feeling,  both  pleasurable 
and  painful,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  modified  if  the 
organic  stimuhis  be  continued.  The  reason  is  that  the 
organ  becomes  accommodated  to  the  stimulus.  After 
fatigue  begins,  however,  the  rule  is  reversed.  The  same 
is  true  of  ideal  feeling,  both  as  a  matter  of  immediate 
adjustment  of  the  attention  (mental  accommodation), 
and  in  view  of  the  conditions  of  mental  habituation. 
The  emotions  of  adjustment  die  out  under  conditions  of 


248         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

easy  attention.  As  regards  habituation,  the  law  is  that 
already  pointed  out  in  connection  with  the  emotion  of 
interest,  i.e.,  interest  as  excitement,  present  emotion,  is 
attendant  upon  exploration,  but  dies  out  as  association 
passes  over  into  fixed  habit.  So  emotional  excitement 
generally  subsides  when  the  stimulus  is  often  repeated. 
Tet  we  find  that  repetition  strengthens  the  deep-seated 
tendency  to  emotion,  i.e.,  passion,'  just  as  it  strengthens 
deep-seated  interests. 

Principle  of  Fatigue.  The  law  of  accommodation 
leads  directly  to  that  of  fatigue.  Accommodation  has 
its  limits.  As,  in  sjDeaking  of  sense-qualities,  we  found 
that  a  long-used  function  tends  by  fatigue  to  disappear 
in  the  rise  of  a  new  function,  so  the  attention,  and  idea- 
tion generally,  has  its  corresponding  emotional  relativity. 
Intellectual  fatigue  attaches  not  only  to  the  attention,  as 
an  activity,  but  also  to  its  content.  We  tire  of  a  subject 
and  our  emotion  loses  its  freshness  and  strength :  and 
the  following  emotional  state  has,  through  contrast,  more 
than  its  ordinary  force.  That  this  contrast-effect  also 
has  its  physiological  basis  in  some  form  of  dynamic 
cerebral  summation  appears  from  Mosso's  experiments," 
which  show  that  mental  is  distinct  from  muscular  fatigue, 
although  the  two  have  a  direct  influence  on  each  other. 
We  may  suppose  the  seat  of  an  emotion  to  be  a  given 
ideational  centre :  prolonged  stimulation  of  this  seat 
exhausts  it  and  predisposes  the  centre  to  react  in  a 
manner  corresponding  to  a  new  ideational  product  and 
emotion.  This  form  of  emotional  contrast  is  exagger- 
ated in  certain  mental  diseases  which  are  due  to  damage 
to  the  coordinating  centres  of  ideation.  The  emotions 
become  as  facile  and  fickle  as  the  play  of  ideas. 

'  See  below,  p.  257. 

*  See  above,  Chap.  IV.  §  2. 


EMOTIONAL  EXPRESSION.  249 

Emotional  Expression.  Like  all  other  states  of  feel- 
ing, the  emotions  belong  in  the  reactive  consciousness. 
As  forms  of  excitement  they  represent  conditions  of  in- 
tense stimulation,  and  find  their  physical  basis  in  pro- 
cesses of  pronounced  nervous  change.  As  excitement 
simply,  apart  from  qualitative  difi'erences,  emotion  indi- 
cates a  difiusive  outgoing  wave  of  nervous  action  con- 
sequent upon  heightened  processes  in  the  centres  of 
ideation.  Viewed  qualitatively,  the  particular  emotions 
are  correlated  to  nervous  discharges  in  particular  direc- 
tions and  portions  of  the  nervous  apparatus,  issuing  in 
muscular  contractions  to  a  large  degree  differentiated 
and  peculiar.  Such  muscular  indications  of  emotion  are 
most  clearly  marked  in  the  face,  though  the  more  in- 
tense extend  to  the  limbs,  and  finally  take  the  form  of 
massive  and  convulsive  movements  of  the  trunk.  So 
familiar  are  we  with  these  forms  of  emotional  expression, 
and  so  expert  have  we  become  in  reading  them,  both 
from  experience  and  by  heredity,  that  our  responses  to 
them  are  instinctive.  Only  the  practised  observer  is 
able  to  analyze  the  common  facial  indications  which  we 
all  readily  construe  in  terms  of  answering  emotion. 

A  good  deal  of  progress  has  been  made  by  psycholo- 
gists in  assigning  to  the  different  emotions  their  peculiar 
correlatives  in  the  muscular  system.  In  general,  each 
main  emotion  expresses  itself,  not  by  the  contraction 
of  a  single  muscle,  but  of  a  coordinated  group  of 
muscles.  The  smile  or  weeping  of  an  infant  is,  at  the 
start,  a  matter  of  very  extended  muscular  innervation, 
and  in  adult  life  the  entire  countenance  seems  to  take 
on  the  semblance  of  tliouglit  or  laughter,  and  to  sup- 
port the  brow  or  mouth  in  its  assumption  of  the  lead- 
ing role.  The  general  facts  of  the  case,  as  respects  the 
leading  prcseutative  emotions,  are  readily  observed  by 
noting  others,  or  by  simulating  emotion  before  a  mir- 


250         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

ror :  it  is  unnecessary  to  go  further  into  details  which 
are  endless  and  wearisome. 

Sir  Charles  Bell '  is  one  of  the  pioneers  in  the  exact  study 
of  emotional  expression,  and  he  is  well  supported  by  the 
more  exhaustive  work  of  Darwin,'  Some  of  Darwin's  de- 
scriptions have  become  classic,  and  have  not  been  surpassed 
by  later  and  more  elaborate  researches.  Further  references 
are  to  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  chapter.  The  hypnotic 
state,  especially  the  condition  called  by  the  Paris  school 
catalepsy,  affords  a  striking  method  of  studying  expression. 
Either  an  emotion  or  its  expression  may  be  suggested  to  the 
hypnotic  subject.' 

The  fundamental  emotional  expressions  are  impul- 
sive. The  child  inherits  the  necessary  vital  reactions 
for  its  life  and  growth,  and,  besides  these,  certain  mus- 
cular contractions  indicative  of  pleasure  and  pain,  joy 
and  sorrow,  i.e.,  smiling,  weeping,  crowing,  sobbing,  etc. 
Very  early,  more  distinct  emotions  grow  up  with  corre- 
sponding ready-formed  reactions — fear,  wonder,  anger, 
love,  jealousy,  etc.  It  is  probable,  from  what  we  know 
of  mental  growth,  that  the  rise  of  these  early  emotions 
waits  upon  the  development  of  their  appropriate  ner- 
vous basis  :  which  means  that  it  waits  upon  the  develop- 
ment of  certain  ideational  centres. 

Such  general  emotional  expressions  are  either  elevat- 
ing and  exciting,  or  depressing  and  inhibiting.  Besides 
these  regular  native  reactions,  however,  which  are  com- 
mon to  individuals,  there  are  multiform  peculiarities  in 
the  motor  side  of  feeling,  every  man  having,  externally, 
his  emotional  stamp.  We  all  have  habitual  movements 
— twitching,  nervous  contractions  of  face,  hands,  limbs, 
often  anything  but  comely,  postures  of  the  body  as  a 
whole — which  were  probably  at  first  no  more  than  acci- 

'  Anatomy  of  Expression,  Bohn's  Library. 

*  Expression  of  the  Emotions. 

*  Compare  Biuet  and  Fere,  Animal  Magnetism,  p.  277. 


EMOTIONAL  EXPRESSION.  251 

dental  patlis  of  discharge  for  the  diffused  wave  of 
nervous  excitement.  These  patiis  become  fixed  by 
recurrent  discharges.  "  Temperament "  is  judged  ex- 
ternally largely  by  such  indications. 

Tlie  attempt  is  often  made  to  dotermine  what  emotional 
expressions  are  fundamental.  Jessen'  names  joy,  sorrow, 
anger,  and  fear  ;  Bain,'  love,  fear,  auger.  Tlio  question  is  of 
little  import:iuce,  except  as  enabling  us  to  pass  judgment 
upon  tlie  order  of  development  of  the  emotions  ;  for  if  the 
forms  of  emotional  expression  may  be  reduced  to  two  or 
three,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  emotions  are  capable  of  a 
corresponding  reduction.  It  is  interesting,  however,  from 
the  evolution  point  of  view.'  If  belief  is  the  fundamental 
general  emotion  of  conscious  reality,  and  if  attraction  and 
repulsion  are  the  fundamental  forms  of  impulse,  then  per- 
haps the  special  modes  of  impulsive  belief  may  be  consid- 
ered original  expressions,  i.e.,  joy  and  sorrow  (belief  with 
past  reference),  love  and  anger  (belief  with  present  value), 
fear  and  hope  (belief  with  future  reference).  All  these 
expressions  are  inherited,  as  observation  of  infants  shows; 
though  it  would  not  do,  perhaps,  to  say  that  no  others  are. 

Theories  of  Emotional  Expression.  The  traditional 
theory  of  such  reactions  is  that  they  are  literally  ex- 
pressive :  that  they  follow  as  effects  upon  emotions 
considered  as  intellectual  causes.  If  we  were  able  to 
assume  that  the  mind  is  a  substantive  self-sufficient  entity, 
giving  and  taking  influence  to  and  from  the  brain,  suck 
a  conception  would  be  tenable.  Empirically,  however, 
we  are  not  able  to  justify  such  a  conception.  Our 
experience  is  of  emotion  expressed^  not  of  emotion  and 
expression.  If  we  endeavor  to  quiet  the  expression,  to 
inhibit  the  nervous  reaction,  just  in  the  degree  in  -which 

'  Versuch  uber  PsycJioloyie,  p.  295. 
Emotions  and  Will,  p.  72. 

"  Darwin's  laws  of  development  of  emotional  expression  have  be- 
come classic.  He  held  that  the  principal  expressions  resulted  from 
the  fixing  by  inheritance  of  musoilar  movements  serviceable  to  the  life 
of  the  animal  organism.  For  this  and  his  subordinate  principles,  he 
must  be  consulted  ;  Darwin,  loc.  cit.  chap.  i. 


252         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

we  succeed,  the  emotion  vanishes  also.  Even  in  the 
case  of  the  intellectual  emotions,  the  muscular  accom- 
paniments of  attention  are  always  present.  Clearly, 
therefore,  psychology  has  no  more  right  to  an  effect 
theory  of  emotional  expression  than  to  an  effect  theory 
of  the  cerebral  changes  which  accompany  conscious 
phenomena  in  general. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  cause  theory  of  emotional 
expression  reverses  the  order  of  events  and  makes  the 
so-called  muscular  expression  cause  of  the  correspond- 
ing emotion.'  This  is  equally  positive,  as  a  metaphysical 
conception  ;  since  it  gives  primacy  to  the  physiological 
basis  beyond  the  positive  evidence  at  hand.  Even 
though  it  be  true  that  any  emotion  may  be  calmed  by 
the  inhibition  of  its  nervous  expression,  it  is  equally 
true  that  the  nervous  diffusion  may  be  calmed  by  the 
play  of  association  or  the  passage  of  attention.  And  as 
for  chronological  priority,  all  our  analogies  from  psycho- 
physics  show  that  such  23riority  is  unlikely  on  either 
side.  All  attempts  to  prove  priority  are  vain,  con- 
sidering the  fact  that  muscular  expression  is  peripheral, 
while  the  nervous  basis  of  emotion  is  central.  Suppose 
it  proved  that  the  muscular  reactions  either  precede  or 
follow  the  conscious  emotion,  what  will  follow  regarding 
the  central  process  ?  The  analogies  spoken  of  afford 
us  ground  for  a  sounder  theory  of  the  physical  basis  of 
emotion. 

Physical  Basis  of  Emotion.  Conceiving  the  problem 
of  expression  under  its  widest  reach,  the  view  required 
both  by  the  physiology  of  the  nervous  system  and  by 
the  facts  of  consciousness,  comes  plainly  out.  Let  us 
call  the  aspect  of  nervous  processes  which  belongs  pecu- 
liarly to  emotional  excitement,  the  nervous  coefficient  of 

'  This  theory  is  most  interestingly  presented  by  James,  loc.cit.,  ii. 
chap.  XXV.     See  also  C.  Lange,  Uber  Oemuthsbewegungen. 


PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  EMOTION.  253 

emotion,  substituting  tliis  phrase  for  tlie  question-beg- 
ging word  expression.  The  question  then  is  :  In  what 
kind  of  a  nervous  process  does  this  coefficient  consist? 
"What  nervous  process  varies — rises  and  falls,  grows  or 
contracts  in  extent — with  corresponding  variations  in 
conscious  feeling  ? 

Now  in  the  general  conception  of  the  nervous  system 
stated  above,  we  found  that  personal  consciousness  was 
present  only  when  the  system  attained  high  integration. 
We  have  also  found  that  sensibility  is  only  another 
name  for  consciousness  :  intense  consciousness  is  intense 
sensibility  or  excitement.  Excitement,  therefore,  is 
the  kind  of  consciousness  which  arises  when  nervous 
integration  is  intense,  i.e.,  very  complex  and  very 
unstable.  This  is  the  nervous  coefficient  of  emotion. 
Emotional  expression  is,  then,  the  outgoing  side  of  the 
nervous  coefficient.  Complexity  at  the  centres  means 
diffusion  in  discharge  ;  instability  at  the  centres  means 
facility  of  discharge — just  the  two  characteristics  of 
emotional  expression. 

And  how  inapplicable  on  this  ^^ew  are  questions  of 
priority !  High  nervous  integration  expressing  itself 
outwardly,  conscious  excitement  felt  inwardly — these 
are  the  data.  One  cannot  be  removed  without  destroy- 
ing the  other;  how  then  can  one  precede  the  other? 
The  two  things  are  there  together ;  what  has  psychology 
to  do  with  the  question  of  cause  and  effect  as  applicable 
to  them  ?  To  push  the  question  farther  is  to  go  into 
si^eculation  on  the  origin  of  consciousness  itself,  i.e., 
why  is  it  that  there  is  a  coefficient  at  all,  and  which 
coefficient,  the  nervous  or  the  conscious  one,  is  the 
metaphysical  prius  ? 

It  is  not  necessary,  either,  to  inquire  what  kind  of 
molecular  activity  the  nervous  coefficient  is.  The  com- 
plexity side  of  it  is  best  conceived  in  terms  of  the 
dyuaiuic    connections  between  brain-centres  which  we 


254         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

found  necessary  for  tlie  pliysical  basis  of  tlie  intellec- 
tual function.  In  saying  that  emotions  of  various  kinds 
spring  from  combinations  of  ideas,  that  we  liave  ideal 
emotions  as  well  as  sensuous  feelings,  is  only  to  say  that 
the  cerebral  coefficient  of  emotion  includes  that  of 
presentation.  But  the  emotion  is  not  thereby  removed 
from  its  own  cerebral  process,  and  made  to  follow  it. 

Further,  since  the  common  ideal  feelings — interest, 
reality,  belief — give  most  general  form  to  conscious 
emotion,  so  the  physical  basis  of  excitement  is  most 
general  when  these  common  feelings  occupy  conscious- 
ness. Beality-feeling  has  its  nervous  basis  in  the  pro- 
cess which  underlies  consciousness  generally  ;  interest 
indicates  both  greater  complexity  and  greater  mobility 
in  cerebral  state  ;  and  belief  implies  a  new  mode  (or 
intensity)  of  brain-function,  taking  form  in  the  various 
belief-coefficients  recognized  above. 


"n' 


The  sensational  coefficient  carries,  besides  intensity  in  the 
proper  sensor  seats,  some  kind  of  nervous  modificiitiou  cor- 
responding to  sensations  of  resistance  and  effort,  possibly  to  be 
sought  in  the  phenomena  of  nervous  inhibition.  The  logical 
coefficient  suggests  activity  in  the  coordinating  centres  which 
physiologists  are  endeavoring  to  locate  ;  and  the  etliical  and 
aesthetic  coefficients,  tliough  akin  to  the  logical,  are  among 
the  many  subjective  facts  for  wliich  nerve-physiology  gives 
us  as  yet  none  but  speculative  and  unsafe  analogies. 

Conscious  DiQusion  of  Emotion.  The  element  of  dif- 
fusion alread}'  pointed  out  in  the  nervous  basis  of  emo- 
tion is  a  marked  characteristic,  also,  of  mental  excite- 
ment. Strong  emotions  spread  themselves  out  over 
the  whole  content  of  consciousness,  and  our  thought- 
current  becomes  grave,  gay,  elevated,  depressed  accord- 
ingly. Not  only  so,  but  we  objectify  our  feelings  to  an 
extent.  The  external  world  takes  on  the  color  of  our 
mood.  This  is  probably  due  to  our  lack  of  control  over 
strong  emotion :  we  are  unable  either  to  banish  it  or  to 


PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  EMOTION. 


255 


pin  it  down  to  its  peculiar  object.  It  is  also  especially- 
true  of  the  more  deep-seated  organic  conditions  which 
give  tone  to  consciousness  as  a  whole.  Dyspepsia  is 
the  most  notorious  enemy  to  good  spirits. 

Brain-seat  of  Emotion.  Assuming  the  central  ap- 
paratus to  be  made  up  of  sensor  and  motor  elements 
and  dynamic  connections  among  them,  we  find  three 
alternatives  open  to  us  regarding  the  locus  of  the  ner- 
vous coefficient  of  emotion.  Either  a  peculiar  manner  (or 
intensity)  of  activity  originating  in  the  sensor  (ideation) 
centres  is  felt  immediately  as  emotion,  passes  off  through 
the  motor  centres,  and  is  reported  back  to  the  sensor 
centres  as  feelings  of  muscular  expression  (Fig.  14,  A) ; 
or  the  emotion-coefficient  may  originate  in  either  the 


mp 


mp 


nit 
B.  Theory  II. 

sp  =  seat  of  emotion,     sp  or  e  or  both  —  seat  of 

emotion. 


■mt 
C.  Theory  III. 
nic  =  seat  of  emotion. 


Fig.  14.— Brain-seat  of  emotion:  "  motor  square."    The  siq-n  x  signifies  a  brain- 
process,  tlie  sign  o  consciousness,  at  the  point  at  which  it  occurs. 

motor  or  sensor  seat,  and  be  carried  back  as  emotion, 
either  to  the  ordinary  sensor  seats  or  to  a  seat  of  its 
own  {e,  in  Fig.  14,  B),  without  the  intervention  of  the 
muscular  movements  of  expression  ;  or  such  a  process 
may  originate  either  in  the  sensor  or  motor  centres, 
but  not  be  felt  until  it  issues  in  muscular  expression, 
the  consciousness  of  which  is  the  emotion  (Fig.  14,  G). 
Of  these  alternatives  the  first  and  second  may  be  com- 
bined in  a  view  which  best  represents  th<^  present  state 
of  the  evidence,  i.e.,  the  emotion-coefficient  is  felt  at 
once  in  consequence  of  the  stimulation  of  tlie  centres  of 
ideation,  just  as   the   sensation-coefficient  arises,  giving 


256         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

qualitative  sensuous  feeling,  upon  stimulation  of  tlie 
same  centres.  This  stimulation  is  communicated  to  the 
motor  centres,  which  react  back  upon  the  sensor,  and 
also  issue  in  muscular  movement.  The  motor  element 
felt  in  emotion,  as  far  as  it  is  not  due  to  association  from 
earlier  muscular  expression,  is  due  to  the  setting  back 
of  nervous  disturbance  from  the  motor  to  the  sensor 
centres. 

In  support  of  the  first  theory,  as  modified  from  the  second, 
and  in  opposition  to  the  third  or  "  kinsesthetic"  theory,  espe- 
cially as  defended  by  James  and  Lange,  it  may  be  said :!.  The 
analogies  from  sensuous  feeling,  sense-qualities,  are  all  in  favor 
of  the  central  origin  of  emotion.     No  one  holds  that  sensations 
are  felt  only  as  far  as  they  have  motor  expression.     The  kin- 
esthetic theory  accordingly  forfeits  unity  in  its  account  of  sen- 
sibility.    2.  It  is  generally  admitted,  that  the  nervous  process 
of  ideation  (reproduction)  is  a  reinstatement  of  the  sensational 
process;  we  would  expect,  therefore,  that  special  feeliug-con- 
sciousness  would  accompany  the  former  as  it  does  the  latter. 
3.  The  cases  where  motor  effects  seem  to  follow  directly  upon 
presentations,  the  emotion  coming  later,  are  worthless  as  evi- 
dence ;'  for,  as  already  said,  to  prove  priority  of  the  peripheral 
reaction  proves  nothing  of  the  central  processes.     It  would 
only  show  that  the  motor  discharge  is  more  facile  than  the 
emotional  discharge,  and  this  might  be  due  either  to  the  dis- 
traction of  attention  and  violent  interference  with  the  mental 
process  which  the  emotion  accompanies,  or  to  the  time  re- 
quired for  the  nervous  process  to  "  set  back"  from  the  motor 
centres.     The  argument  is  a  poftt  hoc  ergo  propter  hoc.     4. 
Argument  from  '"'those  pathological  cases  in  which  the  emo- 
tion is  objectless  " "  is  equally  inconclusive  ;  for  they  are  con- 
sistently accounted  for  on  the  theory  that  the  emotion  and 
the  expression  are  common  effects  of  disease  in  the  centres  of 
ideation.     5.   Further,  the  kinsesthetic  theory  is  inadequate 
to  account  for  suggested  emotion,   "  suffering  by  hallucina- 
tion," etc.,  in  anesthetic  patients.'     The  actual  expression— 
the  kinsesthetic   factor — is   absent,    yet    the   suggested  idea 


'  James,  loc.  cit.,  ii.  pp.  457,  458. 
^Ibid.,  II.  pp  459-62. 

» .Fames,  Ibid. ,  ii.  p.  456 ;   cf .  his  chap,  viu,  in  vol.  i,  and  Janet, 
Automatisme  psychologique. 


PASSIOI^r,  257 

brings  a  real  emotion.  It  will  not  do  to  say  with  James  that 
there  may  still  be  sensations  in  a  split-off  consciousness  which 
contribute  to  the  major  emotional  consciousness,  for  two  rea- 
sons :  first,  it  is  difficult  to  see  why  processes  which  cannot 
get  into  consciousness  when  they  are  stimulated  from  the 
periphery  should  still  be  able  to  get  in  Avhen  they  are  set 
moving  over  the  very  same  courses  by  ideally  initiated 
muscular  movements  ;  and  second,  to  say  that  such  processes 
do  get  into  the  motor  consciousness  and  prevent  ataxia  is  to 
assume  tliat  the  cause  of  ataxia  is  the  absence  of  kinajsthetic 
stimulations,  which  is  not  proved.  Further,  the  abrupt  rise 
and  fall  of  these  suggested  emotions  points  us  to  the  ideal  pro- 
cess with  its  accompanying  attention  as  their  real  seat.  6. 
Such  suggestions  account  for  the  fact  urged  by  James  that 
expression  increases  emotion  ;  the  expression  suggests  more 
emotion  by  ideal  suggestion  :  it  is  also  true  when  the  expres- 
sion is  some  one's  else  expression.' 

Emotion  and  Passion.^  Jessen  ^  asks  the  question 
whether  emotion  is  real  when  it  is  not  felt,  i.e.,  do 
we  love  our  friends  when  we  are  not  thinking  of  them. 
The  answer  to  this  question  introduces  us  to  the  great 
class  of  facts  covered  by  the  word  passion.  By  pas- 
sion is  meant  the  growth  of  emotion  in  depth  at  the 
expense  of  expression.  What  we  have  already  learned 
of  physical  and  mental  habit  would  lead  us  to  expect 
a  consolidation  of  emotions  in  a  few  great  habitual 
forms  of  reaction  :  for  this  is  what  we  find  both  in  the 
nervous  organism  and  in  the  intellectual  life.     Nervous 

'  Janet's  suggestion,  ioc.  cit.,'p.  215,  that  the  kiuaesthetic  stimulus 
may  come  in  from  sight  and  hearing,  really  sup|)orts  the  central 
theory,  since  such  stimulations,  as  he  himself  holds  (p.  274),  instead  of 
giving  direct  emotion,  rather  suggest  it  by  association.  Prof.  James 
seems  to  me  to  give  up  his  whole  case  in  saying  {loc.  cit.,  ii.  459,  note)  : 
"  Under  these  conditions  (trance,  ecstasy,  ordinary  dreaming),  one  may 
have  the  liveliest  subjective  feelings  ...  of  the  emotional  sort,  as  a 
result  of  pure  nerve-centra]  activity  .  .  .  with  complete  peripheral  re- 
pose." 

'■'  The  vjov(\  passion  corresponds  to  Kant's  LeidenscJiaft.  The  Germans 
use  Affekt  to  cover  emotion  as  excitement. 

3  Versuch  iXber  Psychologie,  p.  296. 


258  QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

reactions  become  organized  in  subconscious  motor  intui- 
tions ;  mental  reactions  become  organized  in  percep- 
tions, subconscious  beliefs,  and  interests  :  so  emotions 
take  on  mentally  subconscious  forms.  Tliey  become  so 
habitual  as  to  be  unremarked  except  when  some  new 
occasion  calls  them  out  in  the  shape  of  emotional  excite- 
ment. A  man's  love  for  his  fiancee  is  a  matter  of  con- 
stant consciousness  and  expression :  his  love  for  his 
wife — it  takes  a  burning  house  or  a  drowning-accident  to 
bring  fully  into  his  consciousness.  Emotional  excitement, 
however,  remains  the  method  of  expression  of  passion, 
and  in  popular  speech  the  term  passion  is  given  to  such 
violent  expressions  themselves.  The  real  passion,  how- 
ever, is  deep-seated  prevailing  emotional  motive ;  it  enters 
profoundly  into  our  notion  of  character. 

Among  the  most  marked  passions,  some  are  clearly 
inherited,  others  may  be  traced  in  their  development 
from  occasional  recurring  experiences  of  emotion.  The 
most  distinct  classes  of  passions  may  be  designated 
affections  and  sentiments.  Affections  arise  from  the 
more  interested  and  personal  classes  of  emotions  :  ex- 
amples are  sympathy,  love,  contempt,  benevolence,  stoicism^ 
pessimism.  Sentiments  spring  rather  from  the  more 
objective,  disinterested  emotions  :  examples  are  reverence, 
respect,  religious  or  irreligious  attitudes,  love  of  beauty, 
morality,  etc. 

Theories  of  Emotion.  Theories  of  expression  in- 
volve and  are  involved  in  theories  of  emotion.  Three 
general  views  are  held  as  to  the  nature  of  emotional 
excitement :  intellectual  theories '  hold  that  all  feeling 
is  ideal  feeling,  taking  its  rise  from  the  relation  of 
ideas  to  one  another  as  opposing  or  reinforcing  forces. 
This  theory  fails  confessedly^  to  account  for  sensuous 

'  Volkmann,  Horwicz,  and  the  Herbartiaus  generally. 

*  Nahlowsky,  GefiMsleben,  pp.  61-63.   Cf.  Waitz,  Lehrbuch,  pp.  306, 


THEORIES  OF  EMOTION.  259 

feeling.  Physiological  theories  '  make  all  feeling  sensu- 
ous feeling,  in  compounds  of  varying  degrees  of  com- 
plexity. Emotion  is  a  higher  form  of  organic  pleasure 
and  pain — a  biological  function.  This  theory  fails  to 
account  for  higher  emotion,  or,  indeed,  for  feeling- 
qualities  generally.  It  involves  a  doctrine  of  unity  of 
composition  throughout  the  entire  affective  life.  Origi- 
nal theories '  are  opposed  to  these  in  holding,  in  some 
form,  that  feeling-qualities  are  original  subjective  facts. 
The  entire  foregoing  exposition  of  feeling  is  an  argument 
for  the  "  original"  view. 

This  classification,  again,  is  a  broad  psychological  one, 
and  takes  no  account  of  the  particular  views  of  individual 
writers,  many  of  which  are  extremely  interesting.^  As  re- 
gards expression,  an  intellectual  theory  of  emotion  carries 
an  effect  view  of  expression  ;  a  physiological  view  of  emotion 
carries  a  cause  theory  of  expression  ;  an  original  theory  may 
stop  short  of  either  view  of  expression,  or  it  may  reconcile 
the  two  in  a  conception  of  concomitance  or  *'  coefficient" 
akin  to  that  in  the  text. 

Reproduction  of  Emotion.  From  what  has  been  said 
of  the  conditions  of  the  rise  of  emotion,  the  laws  of  its 
reproduction  are  evident.  If  emotion  is  present  only 
when  an  ideal  object  is  present,  and  if  an  ideal  object  is 
present  only  when  the  brain-conditions  of  earlier  sensa- 
tion are  reinstated,  then  the  laws  of  association  of  ideas 
with  their  basis  in  dynamic  cerebral  processes  are  also 
the  laws  of  the  revival  of  emotional  excitement. 

In  consciousness  the  dependence  of  revived  emotion 
upon  revived  ideas  has  the  same  evidence  as  that  of 

307,  "who  reproaches  Herbart  for  distinguishing  between  feeling  and 
the  perception  of  it. 

'  Spencer,  Bain,  Schneider,  Ribot,  Lewes;  see  Ladd's  exposition. 
Elements  of  Phya.  Paych.,  chap.  ix. 

*  Spinoza,  Hodgson,  Wundt,  James. 

'  For  exaiuple,  Paulhan  liolds  that  emotion  arises  from  the  repression 
or  inhibition  of  impulse;  Les plUnoviines  aj^cctifs. 


260         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

first-hand  emotion  upon  presentations,  i.e.,  the  evidence 
of  invariable  concomitance.  Among  these  ideas,  how- 
ever, we  find  remembered  muscular  and  organic  sensa- 
tions. I  may  reproduce  grief  either  by  recalling  a 
grievous  event  or  by  throwing  my  countenance  into  the 
form  of  grief-expression.  If  I  fail  to  get  one  of  these, 
I  fail  to  reproduce  the  emotion. 

Further,  we  would  expect  the  suggested  emotion  to 
vary  as  one  or  another  coefficient  of  reality  attaches  to  the 
revived  experience.  When  an  event  is  remembered  and 
recognized  as  a  real  event  in  my  past  life,  the  emotion 
it  arouses  has  a  new  quality  from  the  fact  of  its  present 
real  setting.  I  may  remember  my  past  object  of  wrath 
with  present  gratitude  or  affection,  my  past  hopes  with 
present  regret,  my  past  fears  with  present  complacency. 
The  revival  of  the  original  emotional  coloring  of  an  idea 
depends  upon  the  permanent  worth  of  that  idea  as  I 
first  experienced  it.  Or  I  may  voluntarily  banish  my 
present  flow  of  thought,  reinstate  all  the  conditions  of 
the  first  experience,  and  thus  bring  back  the  original 
emotion.  In  case  of  the  memory  of  sensational  experi- 
ences, the  reality-feeling  is  much  stronger  and  the  same 
emotion  comes  back  with  more  or  less  force.  This  is 
because  the  object  is  in  these  cases  bound  more  closely 
with  my  own  feeling,  and  with  difficulty  put  in  a  new 
emotional  setting. 

As  far  as  the  same  emotion  is  revived,  it  is  not  simply 
a  picture  of  a  former  state,  but  a  real  state  of  feeling. 
When  I  remember  a  pain,  I  am  in  pain  :  but  not  neces- 
sarily in  the  same  pain.  For  example,  I  remember  vividly 
a  toothache  :  I  have  a  real  pain  at  present,  but  it  is  not  a 
toothache.  By  the  fact  of  memory,  it  has  lost  its  sensa- 
tional coefficient,  but  it  has  the  memory-coefficient,  and 
is  real.  It  may  by  its  intensity  become  a  real  toothache, 
i.e.,  get  its  sensational  coefficient  again,  thus  becoming 
an  illusion.     The  picturing  of  the  facial  elements  of  ex- 


TRANSFER  OF  EMOTION.  261 

pression  is  the  most  immediate  representative  means  of 
awaking  similar  feelings — a  widening  of  the  fact  already 
noted  of  the  emotion  of  sympathy. 

This  affords  an  explanation  of  what  is  known  as  the  con- 
tagion of  emotion  in  crowds,  and  on  a  broader  scale,  in  com- 
mon sentiments  in  communities  and  states.  In  a  crowd,  fear 
will  spread  with  amazing  rapidity,  probably  by  the  semi-un- 
conscious interpretation  of  muscular  and  vocal  expression. 
So  the  styles  of  taste,  morality,  and  custom  are  inhaled,  so  to 
speak,  from  the  emotional  atmosphere  in  which  we  live. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  revived  emotion  has  a  cumula- 
tive quality  which  tends  to  produce  the  intensity  and  reality 
of  illusion.  The  law  of  summation  seems  to  apply  peculiarly 
to  emotions  which  are  kept  in  consciousness  and  thought  of. 
Not  only  is  my  present  state  of  revived  emotion  intense  from 
the  activity  of  attention,  but  it  seems  to  have  further  intensity 
simply  from  its  duration,  and  this  further  force  in  its  turn 
tends  to  keep  the  attention  enchained.  So  emotion  and  idea 
react  and  reinforce  each  other. 

Transfer  of  Emotion  by  Association.  It  is  a  matter  of 
clear  experience,  also,  that  emotional  excitement  gets 
transferred  by  association  to  ideas  by  which  it  is  not 
originally  aroused.  The  color  black  has  become  doleful 
and  sad  from  mourning  associations,  the  sight  of  the 
postman  in  the  morning  brings  joyful  emotion ;  in  fact, 
interests  of  the  deeper  kind,  as  has  been  already  re- 
marked, arise  from  the  expenditure  of  emotion  or  action 
upon  things  at  first  uninteresting.  The  whole  range  of 
symbolism  and  suggestiveness  in  art  rests  upon  this  fact 
of  accrued  feeling,  when  the  ideas  from  which  it  has  ac- 
crued have  become  vague  or  subconscious. 


">->' 


It  is  much  debated  whether  the  object  with  which  emotion 
is  thus  associated  ever  becomes  intrinsically  of  emotional 
worth  :  some  hold  thiit  to  the  last  the  emotion  only  arises  in 
as  far  as  the  associated  idea  wiiich  at  first  aroused  the  emotion 
is  more  or  less  consciously  suggested.  Tlie  particular  case  of 
the  miser  who  grows  to  love  his  gold  is  in  point.  Does  he 
love  only  the  pleasure,  power,  etc.,  which  the  gold  stands  for? 
While  such  a  complex  state  of  emotion  as  avarice  may  remain 


262         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

in  doubt,'  yet  there  are  simpler  analogies  which  point  to  the 
real  ti-ausferreuce  of  feeling.  Physically  we  have  snch  facts 
as  fainting  at  the  sight  of  blood  when  no  association  with 
blood  has  been  acquired  ;  aversion  to  ce]-tain  animals,  as 
snakes,  lizards,  etc.  The  only  explanation  is  to  be  found  in 
the  supposition  that  race-experience  is  registered  in  the  ner- 
vons  system,  and  the  necessary  life-preserving  reactions  at- 
tach themselves  to  the  simple  associates  of  real  dangers.  In 
the  sphere  of  emotion  also  we  find  analogous  aversions,  an- 
tipathies, fears,  etc.,  which  the  individual  is  quite  unable  to 
explain  from  any  association  in  his  lifetime:  and  we  must 
hold  that  the  emotion  often  terminates  upon  innocent  and  in- 
trinsically neutral  presentations. 

Conflict  of  Emotions.    All  mental  conflicts  are  conflicts 
of  feeling.    So-called  conflicting  ideas  are  those  which  are 
felt  to  be  in  conflict,  i.e.,  those  which  introduce  conflict 
into  the  life  of  feeling.     So  the  much-talked-of  conflict  of 
feeling  and  reason  is  purely  a  conflict  of  feelings.    Reason 
here  means  the  moving  aspect  of  thought,  the  strength 
of  truth  in  setting  the  subject  into  action.    I  might  ap- 
prehend a  truth  clearly  and  yet  find  no  conflict  between 
it  and  my  life  which  denies  it.     It  is  only  as  it  moves 
me,  as  I  have  an  emotion  for  it,  that  it  makes  a  conflict 
for  supremacy.      But  emotional  conflicts  are  real  and 
tragic,  especially  when  they  play  around  questions  of 
duty.     And  it  is  the  degree  of  persistence  and  strength 
of  the  underljdng  ideas  that  gives  and  takes  the  victory. 
Emotional   conflicts,  therefore,   indicate   the   hold   that 
various  kinds  of  truths  have  upon  the  agent.     One  man 
surrenders  to  the  sensational  coeflicient,  the  sensuous ; 
another  gets  an  easy  victory  for  the  distant  and  ideal ; 
while  a  third  lives  a  life  of  irresolution  or  decision  ac- 
cording to  the  accidental  ajDpeals  of  one  truth  or  another. 


'  On  this  case,  which  illustrates  the  ethical  bearings  of  the  subject, 
see  Flint,  in  Mind,  vol.  i. 


CESSATION  OF  EMOTION.  2G3 

§  2.  Duration  of  Emotion. 

Tlie  experimeutal  metliod  of  determiumg  the  duration 
of  simple  psychic  acts  is  not  applicable,  in  any  exact 
way,  to  emotional  excitement :  for  the  reason  that  the 
psycho-physical  process  is  not  here  a  matter  of  simple 
nervous  reaction  or  of  the  abrupt  come-and-go  of  pres- 
entations. Emotions  are  diffused  excitement,  both  inter- 
nally and  externally.  All  that  can  be  said,  therefore,  of 
the  duration  of  emotion,  pertains  to  the  general  condit- 
ions of  its  rise.  It  is,  of  course,  onlj'  a  truism  to  say 
that  emotions  last  only  as  long  as  their  causes  last,  but 
the  twofold  basis,  physical  and  intellectual,  of  emotion 
gives  the  truism  some  special  bearings.  Cases  are  re- 
corded of  the  absence  of  the  intellectual  object  and  the 
continuance  of  the  emotion,  its  expression  being  obtru- 
sive and  vehement.  It  is  less  frequent,  but  real,  also, 
that  emotional  expression  may  be  apparently  lacking,  as 
in  intense  aesthetic,  ethical,  and  spiritual  feeling. 

Emotional  Cessation  and  Relief.  It  follows  also,  from 
the  foregoing,  that  relief  from  emotion  may  be  artificial- 
ly courted.  Indulgence  in  strong  outbursts  of  feeling 
tends  to  allay  their  causes ;  it  exhausts  the  nervous  pro- 
cesses involved  and  induces  other  emotions.  Knocking 
a  man  down  satisfies  my  feeling  of  revenge  more  from 
the  new  emotion  of  justice  or  honor  vindicated,  than 
from  nervous  expenditure  ;  but  both  satisfactions  are 
real.  Kelief  by  nervous  expenditure  follows,  especially, 
in  cases  of  emotion  which  excite  to  action.  It  is  always 
a  relief  to  have  done  something  in  an  emotional  emer- 
gency, whether  it  be  successful  and  wise  or  not. 

Again,  there  is  a  great  class  of  emotions  which  sharing 
tends  to  relieve.  Novelists  make  much  of  the  smoulder- 
ing motif  in  the  growth  of  feeling.  The  immediate  effect 
of  sharing  a  personal  emotion  is  to  temper  it  by  the  sense 


264         QUANTITY  AND  DURATION  OF  EMOTION. 

of  sympathy  and  social  community.  Psycliologically, 
several  elements  enter  into  this  sense  of  relief  :  a  feeling 
arises  that  the  friend  confided  in  justifies  and  defends  the 
emotion;  also,  a  feeling  that  help  and  support  are  secured. 
And  there  is  further  relief  by  the  cessation  of  the  feeling 
of  isolation  and  loneliness,  which  is  the  reverse  of  social 
feeling. 

All  this  offers  new  proof  of  the  general  utility  and  social 
value  of  sympathy.  Not  only  is  it  pleasurable  to  suffer  with 
another,  by  the  greater  value  of  the  social  over  the  egoistic  im- 
pulse; but  one  of  the  keenest  and  most  elevated  enjoyments  of 
life  is  the  pleasure  of  being  sympathized  with.  This  is  akin  to 
the  additional  pang  imported  into  remorse  and  repentance  by 
the  knowledge  that  others  know  and  condemn.  The  same  is 
a'lso  evident  in  the  pleasure  of  vanity,  which  transcends  pride 
through  the  consciousness  that  the  praise  of  others  is  added  to 


one's  own 


Eelief  from  sharing  is,  however,  temporary  unless  as- 
sisted by  other  agencies.  And  the  return  of  feeling  is 
more  intense  from  the  sense  of  social  support.  Apart 
from  its  immediate  effects,  which  are  largely  nervous, 
sharing  deepens  emotion  by  fixing  the  ideal  causes  in 
the  attention,  expanding  the  reasons  for  feeling  fully  in 
consciousness,  and  giving  additional  associations  to  keep 
it  constantly  in  mind.  Mourning  garments,  cards,  etc., 
undoubtedly  keep  grief  alive.  We  often  have  emotions 
because  we  feel  that  it  is  expected  of  us.'  Yet  often  one 
of  the  old  associations  that  has  long  seemed  the  dried 
channel  of  a  forgotten  joy  or  grief,  empties  upon  us  an 
overwhelming  flood  of  sweet  or  bitter  memories.  Such 
experiences  we  call  revulsions  of  feeling,  and  they  some- 
times give  a  new  turn  to  the  permanent  current  of  the  af- 
fective life. 

'  When  nine  years  of  age.  the  writer  lost  a  brother,  and  his  memory 
of  mourning  is  largely  of  his  consciousness  of  the  importance  of  the  oc- 
casion and  his  desire  to  do  himself  and  his  family  credit  by  his  deport- 
ment. 


EMOTIONAL  RHYTHM.  265 

Emotional  Rhythm.  The  alternating  relief  and  re- 
currence of  emotion  gives  it  a  certain  periodicity  or 
rhythm  ;  not  as  definite  as  the  rhythm  remarked  in  con- 
nection with  the  attention,  but  probably  resting  in  part 
upon  it.  Ideas  sufficiently  intense  and  important  to 
arouse  strong  emotion  stay  in  consciousness  independent- 
ly of  continuous  attention.  They  hold  the  attention  in 
spite  of  its  attempts  to  liberate  itself.  Further,  emotion 
is  a  massive  thing  which  diffuses  itself  over  the  entire 
content  of  consciousness,  and  dominates  the  mental  life 
in  the  form  of  a  mental  mood.  Minor  changes  have  little 
influence  upon  it.  The  rhythm  of  emotion  is,  therefore, 
a  deep-seated  thing,  depending,  as  far  as  its  physical 
conditions  are  concerned,  largely  on  the  rise  and  fall  of 
the  rhythmical  organic  functions,  or  of  the  vital  energies 
as  a  whole.  Emotions  play  themselves  out,  but  while 
we  sleep  they  gather  their  secret  forces. 

On  mental  excitement  as  e7notion,  consult:  Spencer,  Psych.,  §211; 
Hodgson,  Theory  of  Practice.  I.  bk.  i.  chap,  n  ;  Bain,  Emotions 
and  Will,  pp.  .3-293,  especially  cliap.  ni  ;  Hume,  Treatise,  bk.  n  ; 
Schneider,  Thierische  Wille,  Cap.  iv  ;  James,  P?-inc.  of  Psych.,  ii. 
chap.  XXV;  Spinoza,  Ethics,  inloc;  Ladd,  Elements  of  Phys.  Psych., 
chap.  IX;  Dugald  Stewart,  Active  Poivers,  vol.  i;  Hoffding,  Outlines, 
VI.  E,  F;  Ward,  Encyclop.  Britann.  ;  Volkmann,  Lehrbucli,  §§  127 
-132  ;  Sully,  Outlines,  pp.  480  ff.  ;  Gamier,  Traite  des  Faeultes  de 
VAme,  bk.  iv.  chap,  v;  Paulhan,  Les  Plienomenes  affectifs  et  les  Lois 
de  leur  Apparition. 

On  emotional  expi-ession :  Bain,  Se72ses  and  Intellect,  277-88; 
James,  loc.  cit.,  ii.  chap,  xxv  ;  Ladd,  loc.  eit.,  chap,  ix;  WumU, Phys. 
Psych.,  3d  ed.,ii.  504  ff. ;  Warner,  Physical  Expression ;  Dumont, 
Tfieorie  de  la  Sensibilite,  pt.  ii.  chap,  vi;  Schneider,  Menseh.  Wille, 
chap.  XX;  Spencer,  Psychology,  §261,  and  ii.  pt.  ix.  chap,  iv;  Sully, 
Sens,  and  Intuition,  pp.  23  ff. ;  Ferrier,  loc.  cit.,  pp.  67  f . ;  Manta- 
gazza,  Physionomie  et  V Expression ;  Mosso,  La  Peur ;  Carpenter, 
Ment.  Phys.,  chap.  vii. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

IDEAL  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

The  earlier  consideration  of  sensuous  tone  leads  up 
to  a  clear  view  of  higher  or  ideal  pleasure  and  pain.  In 
general,  the  phrase  ideal  tone  is  used  to  designate  the 
pleasurable  or  painful  quality  of  emotional  excitement. 
We  are  now  able  to  gather  up  the  mental  conditions  of 
pleasure  and  pain  as  we  before  sought  out  the  physical 
conditions.  A  preliminary  retrospect  of  the  two  great 
classes  of  emotions,  i.e.,  those  of  activity  and  those  of 
content,'  or  formal  and  material,  both  of  which  have  pro- 
nounced tone-quality,  leads  us  to  see  that  new  factors 
now  come  into  play  ;  factors  not  involved  in  sensuous 
feeling.  The  phenomena  of  sensuous  tone  are  ade- 
quately explained  from  the  consideration  of  function 
only,  with  its  adjustments.  Such  an  explanation  of  ideal 
tone,  it  is  plain,  would  apply  only  to  one  class  of  the 
emotions,  those  of  activity,  which  we  have  found  them- 
selves to  fall  in  two  classes  corresponding  to  function 
proper  and  adjustment.  The  tone  of  the  whole  important 
class  of  emotions  of  content  must  have  some  further  ex- 
planation. Considering  first  the  tone  of  the  emotions 
of  activity,  we  may  call  its  conditions  the  primary  con- 
ditions of  ideal  pleasure  and  pain  ;  the  conditions  of 
the  tone-quality  of  the  emotions  which  attach  to  objects, 
to  a  content,  will  be  secondary  conditions. 

The  need  of  tliis  distinction  and  its  great  importance  will 
appear  more  clearly  as  we  proceed.     Heretofore  ihe  explana- 

'  Above,  Chap.  VIII.  §  1. 

266 


PRIMARY  CONDITIONS.  267 

tion  of  pleasure-  and  pain-quality  has  stopped  with  a  theory 
of  physical  tone  from  which  an  analogy  was  drawn  as  to  the 
nature  of  ideal  tone.  But — to  cite  an  example  without  an- 
ticipating the  discussion — what  analogy  from  the  physical 
conditions  of  pleasure  and  pain  is  applicable  to  the  pleasure 
of  beauty  or  the  pain  of  envy  ?  The  new  condition  in  these 
latter  eases  is  the  presence  of  the  object  in  consciousness — a 
condition  of  which  bodily  pleasure  and  pain,  as  such,  know 
nothing. 


§  1.  Primary  Conditions  of  Ideal  Tone. 

1.  Some  degree  of  ideal  change.  As  physical  pain  arises 
from  physical  function,  so  higher  pain  comes  with  apjDer- 
ception  considered  as  ideal  function.  And  in  general, 
the  degree  of  ideal  function,  measured  in  terms  of  the 
emotional  excitement  to  which  it  gives  rise,  indicates  also 
the  degree  of  pleasure  or  pain.  Ideal  change,  the  rear- 
rangement of  elements  in  the  appercej^tive  content  of 
consciousness,  is  accordingly  the  general  condition  of 
particular  ideal  tone. 

We  may,  therefore,  at  once — subject  to  support  from 
empirical  observation — make  use  of  the  conception  of 
sensuous  tone  already  arrived  at,  substituting  for  the 
physical,  the  apperceptive  function,  and  for  the  adjust- 
ment of  end-organs,  that  of  attention  ;  and  expect  to  find 
an  adequate  conception  of  ideal  pleasure  and  pain.  Ac- 
cordingly we  reach  a  second  condition. 

2.  The  degree  and  duration  of  attention :  determining 
ideal  tone  as  pleasure  or  as  pain.  Excessive  concentra- 
tion of  the  attention  is  painful ;  yet  the  pain  involved  is 
directly  merged  in  the  pain  involved  in  the  adjustment 
of  tlie  bodily  organ.  Prolonged  attention  becomes  pain- 
ful by  the  law  of  fatigue  already  found  operative  upon 
emotional  states.  On  the  other  hand,  moderate  concen- 
tration and  duration  of  attention  are  pleasurable.  The 
"  emotions  of  activity"  mentioned  above,  give  emotional 
body  to  these  states  of  pleasure  and  pain. 


268  IDEAL  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

3.  The  degree  of  adjustment  or  misadjustment  of  the 
attention.  The  conditions  given  above  as  involving  emo- 
tions of  distraction,  etc.,  are  painful ;  those  giving  feel- 
ings of  ease,  flow,  variety,  etc.,  are  pleasurable.  It  is 
probable  that  the  most  pleasurable  adjustment  is  that 
of  finest  and  most  exact  discrimination.  Ward  formu- 
lates this  and  the  preceding  condition  as  follows  :  there 
is  pleasure  "  in  proportion  as  the  maximum  of  attention 
is  effectively  exercised."  ' 

Strict  analogy,  accordingly,  from  the  philosophy  of 
the  sensuous  functions,  leads  us  to  define  ideal  pleasure 
as  the  conscious  effect  of  that  ivhich  makes  for  the  contimiance 
of  the  apperceptive  life  or  its  advancement ;  and  ideal  pain, 
the  conscious  effect  of  that  ivhich  makes  for  the  decline  of  the 
appei'ceptive  life  or  its  limitation. 

§  2.  Secondary  Conditions  of  Ideal  Tone. 

The  determinations  already  reached  have  evident 
application  to  emotions  of  activity,  to  those  states  of 
feeling  which  arise  around  acts  of  the  attention  regard- 
less of  the  nature  of  the  object  to  which  the  attention 
is  directed.  The  other  emotional  states,  however,  are 
pronounced  in  their  contribution  to  the  tone  of  con- 
sciousness. The  great  expressive  emotions  (fear,  love, 
anger),  the  sympathetic,  the  ethical  and  aesthetic,  are  all 
at  times  controlling  agents  of  pleasure  or  pain.  The 
question  at  once  arises :  Is  it  possible  to  bring  them  under 
the  formulas  already  enunciated  ?     This  question  awaits 


'  Loc.  cit.  In  this  formula  the  pleasures  of  activity  are  well  formu- 
lated, as  against  the  plurality  of  energies  of  the  faculty-psychologists 
(Hamilton);  but  it  is  open  to  the  same  criticism  that  the  Herbartian  theory 
is,  i.e.,  that  it  takes  no  account  of  the  pleasure  and  pain  occasioned  by 
objects  presented.  My  painful  fear  of  a  mad  dog  is  hardly  due  to  my 
failure  to  give  him  attention.  On  the  contrary,  the  more  effectively  he 
calls  out  the  exercise  of  my  attention,  the  more  pained  I  grow. 


SECOXDARY  CONDITIONS.  269 

an  answer  from  the  consideration  of  the  conditions  under 
which  objects  come  to  be  pleasure-  or  pain-giving. 

1.  Objects  of  perception  excite  pleasure  or  pain  only  as 
they  have  some  present  or  future  relation  to  our  physical  icell- 
or  ill-being.  Perception,  as  has  been  seen,  is  a  summing 
up,  a  synthesizing  of  sensations ;  an  object  gives  us  cer- 
tain sensations,  and  these  enable  us  to  anticipate  others. 
The  sight  of  falling  rain  prophesies  to  me  the  unpleasant- 
ness of  being  wet ;  the  sight  of  a  lion,  the  pain  of  being 
eaten.  The  tone  of  perception,  therefore,  as  far  as  it 
refers  to  the  object,  is  intrinsically  a  prophecy  of  the 
tone  of  the  sensations  it  includes  and  suggests. 

Put  more  generally,  the  tone  of  the  qualitative  ex- 
pressive emotions  has  reference  to  the  preservation  of 
the  animal  life.  Fear  means  danger  to  life,  love  means 
satisfaction  and  advancement  of  life ;  and  if  it  be  true 
that  this  law  of  life-develojjment  is  a  sufficient  account 
of  sensuous  pleasure  and  pain,  then  we  find  it  possible 
to  account  for  the  tone-quality  of  the  expressive  emo- 
tions by  the  same  principle.  Sensations,  in  which  knowl- 
edge synthesis  is  implicit,  have  tone -quality — an  index 
of  the  present  life-process :  perceptions,  in  which  the 
knowledge  synthesis  is  becoming  explicit,  and  which  has 
the  value  of  future  sensations  as  well,  have  tone-quality 
— an  index  of  the  future  life-process. 

To  illustrate  :  a  child  first  sees  a  fire  (yellow-light 
sensation),  grasps  it  (touch-sensation),  feels  pain  (sensu- 
ous tone,  due  to  damage  to  the  life-process).  Again  he 
sees  the  fire  (perception,  carrying  in  it  touch-  and  pain- 
memories)  and  has  fear,  which  is  of  painful  tone.  The 
point  advanced  is  that  this  latter  tone,  of  fear,  also  has 
reference  to  the  life-process.  It  is  nature's  way  of  util- 
izing sim})ler  pain-experiences,  just  as  perception  is  her 
way  of  utilizing  sensational  experiences. 

Tliis  is  not  to  say,  however,  tliat  ideal  pleasure  and  pain, 
as  given  in  expressive  emotion,  is  reducible  to  sensuous  tone. 


270  IDEAL  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

It  is  not.  It  arises  only  when  the  process  of  perception  is 
present.  I  may  be  pained  by  the  glare  of  a  printed  j)age,  but 
at  the  same  time  pleased  at  the  thoughts  1  read  from  it.  Yet 
it  means  that  in  both  sensation  and  j^erceptiou  a  common 
life-process  runs,  to  which  both  are  subservient,  and  this  life- 
process  comes  to  consciousness  in  the  pleasure  and  pain  which 
is  common  to  both.  This  consideration  applies  to  the  other 
forms  of  ideal  tone  considered  immediately  below. 

In  the  case  of  the  sympathetic  emotions,  a  difficulty  seems 
to  arise  from  the  fact  that  one's  own  life-advantage  is  not 
secured  in  the  pleasure  of  sympathy.  Yet  when  Ave  remem- 
ber that  at  first  sympathy  has  no  personal  object,  but  is 
simply  an  emotion  of  suggested  pleasure  or  pain,  we  see  that 
the  principle  is  the  same  as  for  fear,  angei-,  etc.  When  the 
child  has  the  pain  of  sympathy,  it  is  because  he  feels  again 
his  own  former  pain,  and  that  pain  is  at  first  sensuous  pain. 
As  for  the  tone  of  sympathy  with  intellectual  and  emotional 
distress,  not  sensuous,  that  comes  under  the  same  head,  pro- 
vided it  can  be  shown  that  such  sympathy  reflects  the  well-  or 
ill-being  of  the  physical  as  well  as  of  the  mental  life. 

2.  Representations  of  objects  excite  pleasure  and  pain  only 
as  the  objects  themselves  excite  them.  This  covers  the  whole 
field  of  emotions  due  to  reproduction — memory,  passive 
imagination,  illusions,  etc.  The  emotions  which  such 
representations  excite  have  qualitative  coloring  (expec- 
tation, dread,  etc.),  but  their  tone  is  again  due,  as  the 
tone  of  perception  is,  to  the  anticipation  of  advantage 
or  damage  from  the  pictured  object. 

It  should  be  noticed  that  the  emotions  whose  tone  has 
been  so  fur  considered,  all  involve  the  sensational  coefficient 
of  belief  ;  they  all  terminate  on  external  objects  presented  or 
represented.  Some  such  conclusion  as  this  is  accordingly 
reasonable,  i.e.,  the  pleasure  or  pain  of  brh'ef  in  the  external 
world  is  the  indication  in  co)isciousness  of  the  ivorth  of  particu- 
lar as-pocts  of  that  world  for  the  individual  organism ;  a 
proposition  which  may  be  further  extended  by  tliis  consider- 
ation :  that  through  jiereeption  and  memory  the  organism  is 
capable  of  adjustments  to  conditions  more  remote  in'time  and 
space.  The  animal  that  only  feels,  lives  and  dies  in  a  close- 
encasing  milieu :  a  creature  that  perceives  and  remembers,  is 
forewarned  by  the  past  and  anticipates  the  distant  and  future. 


SECONDARY  CONDITIONS.  271 

3.  The  tone  of  the  conceptual  and  relational  emotions  has 
reference  both  (1)  to  physical  and  (2)  to  intellectual  loell- 
or  ill-heing. 

(1)  The  reference  of  conception  and  thought  to 
physical  pleasure  and  pain  is  clear  in  some  cases. 
Mj  conception  of  the  work  of  dentists,  for  example,  has 
a  painful  tone  which  is  as  clearly  a  warning  of  physical 
damage  as  the  perception  of  my  particular  dentist  is. 
So,  also,  the  science  of  dentistry,  the  logical  framework 
of  the  art,  considered  merely  as  a  branch  of  instruction, 
cannot  be  rid  of  its  physical  suggestiveness.  The 
medical  student  grows  faint  when  he  hears  his  first 
lecture  on  blood-letting.  Consequently,  a  positive  part 
of  the  tone  of  higher  aesthetic,  ethical,  and  logical  emo- 
tion illustrates  the  law  of  physical  well-being. 

In  the  case  of  aesthetic  emotion,  the  element  con- 
tributed by  association  is  largely  of  this  sensational 
character.  Apart  from  the  beauty  of  the  purely  sensu- 
ous in  music,  its  associations  are  largely  sensuous.  A 
face  often  becomes  handsome  from  association  at  the 
table,  the  theatre,  on  the  promenade,  and  the  pleasure 
we  take  in  it  is  a  reverberation  of  these  associated 
pleasures  of  sense.  The  ethical  we  have  also  found  to 
involve  tone-quality,  and  in  the  absence  of  higher 
motives,  the  physical  is  often  the  right.  It  is  our  duty 
to  preserve  our  health,  and  it  is  impossible  to  separate 
the  pleasure  arising  from  such  an  act  of  duty  from  the 
memory-tone  of  health  itself. 

Again,  it  should  be  pointed  out  that  higher  tone  is  a  new 
thing,  not  the  same  as  physical  tone,  altliongh  it  subserves  in 
part  the  same  law  of  physical  development.  The  sesthetiu 
and  ethical  emotions  are  distinct  qualitatively,  and  arise  only 
from  explicit  intellectual  and  voluntary  operations;  and  tlieir 
tone  can  only  arise  vvlien  they  tlunnselves  ai-ise. 

It  is  also  true  here  that  the  orga,nism,  by  thus  entering  into 
tlie  region  of  thought  with  its  claim  to  consideration,  gets 
ni3W  and  marvellous  facilities  of  adjustment  to  its  living  con- 


272  IDEAL  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

ditions.  Who  can  say  how  soon  our  organic  life  would  be 
snuffed  out  if  we  did  not  make  reasonable  provision  for  its 
protection  and  prolongation  ?  We  must  live  in  order  that 
we  may  think,  love,  labor,  it  is  true:  but,  first  of  all,  we  must 
think  in  order  that  we  may  live. 

(2)  So  far,  it  is  clear,  we  may  carry  a  naturalistic 
view  of  pleasure  and  pain,  conceding  that,  whatever 
purpose  they  may  serve  beside,  all  normal  pleas- 
ures point  to  healthy,  and  all  normal  pains  to  un- 
healthy, physical  functions.  Does  this  exhaust  the 
range  of  ideal  tone  ?  Further  consideration  convinces 
us  that  it  does  not.  There  are  emotions  whose  tone 
seems  to  violate  the  law  of  physical  well-being.  It  is 
a  common  distinction — that  between  higher  and  lower 
pleasure :  and  so  obtrusive  that  a  great  school  of 
moralists'  have  attempted  to  justify  the  popular  con- 
sciousness in  the  matter,  by  making  the  distinction  a 
fundamental  one  in  the  ethics  of  the  moral  end.  This 
attempt  we  have  found  to  be  unsuccessful,  since  it  is  not 
tone  which  has  quality,  but  it  is  rather  mental  quality 
which  has  tone.  That  is,  it  is  in  the  conditions  of 
pleasure,  as  higher  and  lower,  physical  and  ideal,  not  in 
pleasure  itself,  that  a  distinction  is  to  be  made. 

We  would  expect,  if  consciousness  is  a  synthetic 
thing,  and  if  its  synthesis  becomes  explicit  in  what  we 
call  apperception  or  thought,  that  such  a  new  thing  in 
nature  would  have  its  own  principle  of  development. 
And  we  w^ould  expect,  further,  that  its  development 
would  be  a  matter  of  conscious  adaptation  to  free  condi- 
tions of  thinking  and  willing.  The  most  natural  view 
of  ideal  pleasure  and  pain,  therefore,  is  to  consider  it 
an  index  of  healthy  or  unhealthy  mental  function.  As 
physical  pleasures,  at  first  ministering  blindly  to  the 
welfare  of  the  organism,  grow  to  attach  to  objects  in 

1  The  disciples  of  J.  S.  Mill. 


SECONDARY  CONDITIONS.  273 

relation  to  the  organism ;  so  ideal  pleasures,  while  at- 
taching still  to  attention  as  a  function,  jet  come  to 
attach  to  its  objects  as  well.  On  this  view,  the  tone 
of  many  emotions,  as  the  conceptual  and  relational, 
reflects  the  state  of  the  mental  functions  primarily. 

This  surface-view  is  supported  by  abundant  empirical 
evidence.  The  pleasures  of  intellectual  pursuit  lead 
their  devotees  to  neglect  the  body  and  even  to  continue 
this  course  in  the  face  of  acute  physical  pain.  Es- 
thetic delight  is  so  independent  of  selfish  motives  that 
admiration  is  often  called  out  by  what  is  destructive 
and  terrifying.  Ethical  emotion,  with  the  happiness  it 
always  brings,  may  triumph  over  physical  impulse, 
when  they  come  into  conflict.  In  all  these  spheres,  fur- 
ther, the  possible  antagonism  of  pleasures  is  a  matter 
of  such  direct  conscious  experience  that  philosophers, 
from  Plato  down,  have  supposed  a  great  gulf  fixed 
between  the  animal  soul  and  the  rational,  the  gratifica- 
tion of  the  latter  alone  being  true  happiness.  As  to  the 
actual  decision  of  consciousness  on  the  question  of  a  dis- 
tinction between  the  conditions  which  bring  happiness 
and  those  which  bring  pleasure,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 

Accordingly,  we  find  it  necessary  either  to  maintain 
a  dual  reference  of  ideal  pleasure  and  pain — to  physi- 
cal well-being  on  one  hand  and  to  intellectual  well- 
being  on  the  other — or  to  find  a  postulate  upon  which 
these  two  aspects  can  be  shown  to  be  included  in  one 
truth.  Without  appealing  to  metaphysics,  we  may  sim- 
ply conclude  that  ideal  tone  refers  to  personal  well- 
being  as  a  whole.  And  it  is  equally  true  that  sensuous 
tone  refers  to  both  physical  and  mental  well-being. 
Consequently,  no  violent  separation  between  the  two 
interests  is  possible.  If  mind  develops  with  body,  and 
body  with  mind,  then  their  interests,  as  represented  in 
conaciotisness,  would  be  generally  common  interests. 
In  the  relative  adjustments  of  their  claims,  the  ideal,  by 


274  IDEAL  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

common  consent,  takes  precedence  ;  but  why  this  is,  and 
what  it  means,  let  philosophers  decide. 

•  Philosophy  finds  it  easy  to  suggest  two  hypotheses,  either 

of  which  empirical  psychology,  as  far  as  this  single  difficulty 
is  concerned,  should  be  free  to  accept.  The  materialistic 
evolutionist  identities  physical  and  mental  well-being;  the 
mental  life  is  a  form  of  consciousness  resultiug  from  a  highly 
integrated  brain-process;  and  since  the  end  of  brain-develop- 
ment is  complex  integration,  the  pleasure  of  higher  ideation 
and  volition  is  primarily  an  index  of  physical  development. 
The  spiritualistic  monist,  on  the  other  hand,  says  the  highest 
outcome  of  evolution  is  mind;  once  born,  it  is  the  evident 
goal  of  nature.  Physical  pleasure  is  only  a  prophecy,  a  step- 
ping-stone, to  the  higher  happiness  which  is  nature's  pro- 
vision for  the  perfection  of  spirit.  One  is  the  philosophy 
of  mechanism,  of  which  thought  is  only  the  most  complex 
expression :  the  other  is  the  philosophy  of  reason,  for  which 
the  mechanical  is  but  a  preparation. 

The  same  conclusion  may  be  reached  from  the  point  of 
view  of  impulse,  of  which  pleasure  is  the  gratification.  It 
will  appear  later  that  the  intellectual  ideal  impulses  stand  out 
as  something  different  from  physical  impulses;  yet  that  the 
two  cannot  be  set  over  against  each  other,  as  answering  differ- 
ent purposes  in  the  economy  of  the  individual  life.  The  will 
is  amenable  to  both,  and  both  go  to  make  up  personality. 

§  3.  Final  Conclusion'  on  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

Summing  up  all  that  has  been  said  of  pleasure  and 
pain,  both  sensuous  and  ideal,  we  may  conclude  that 
pleasure  and  pain  are  the  qff'ective  coloring,  respectively,  ivhich 
consciousness  takes  on  in  conditions  of  present  or  prospective 
well-  or  ill-being : '  a  definition  which  can  be  understood 
only  in  the  light  of  earlier '  explanations  of  the  terms 
which  it  employs. 

And  we  have  found  three  classes  of  conditions  upon 
which  pleasure  and  pain  depend :  first,  physical  condi- 
tions, giving  sensuous  tone  ;    second,  ideal  conditions, 

'  Cf.  Lotze's  slatement,  Microeosmus,  i.  p.  240. 
*  Chap.  V,  and  the  foregoiug  sections. 


INDIFFERENCE,  275 

gi^'ing  rise  to  the  tone  of  states  of  attention  ;  third,  a 
union  of  physical  and  ideal  conditions,  giving  rise  to  the 
tone  of  the  emotions  of  content. 

§  4.  Universal  Presence  of  Tone. 

It  is  now  possible  to  justify  the  earlier  assertion  that 
all  mental  states  have  tone,  that  present  consciousness 
is  never  quite  indifferent  as  regards  pleasure  and  pain. 

It  may  be  well  to  remember  that  consciousness  itself 
is  primarily  sensibility.  Whatever  happens  in  conscious- 
ness is  therefore  felt,  whether  it  be  mental  excitement, 
knowledge,  or  volition.  But  this  sensibility  may  not 
itself  become  a  matter  of  consciousness,  i.e.,  I  may 
not  know  that  I  am  feeling  cognition  or  volition ; 
they  may  not  intrude  themselves  upon  me  as  states  of 
feeling.  In  other  words,  feeling  may  be  distinguished 
from  consciousness  of  the  fact  of  feeling.  This  latter  we 
have  called  excitement,  i.e.,  feeling  so  intense  that  it 
"  ruffles  up"  the  surface  of  consciousness.  For  example, 
an  accountant  works  up  his  books  for  the  thousandth 
time  ;  his  entries  and  additions  are  performed  semi- 
automatically ;  he  is  not  aware  of  any  excitement,  any 
consciousness  that  he  is  all  the  time  feeling  the  processes 
he  performs.  But  he  comes  upon  a  deficit  in  his  ac- 
counts ;  something  does  not  balance.  At  once  the  mean- 
ing of  the  deficit  becomes  a  problem  of  felt  importance 
and  interest,  and  every  subsequent  step  of  his  calcula- 
tions is  accompanied  by  a  consciousness  of  feeling,  ie., 
by  excitement.' 

Now  it  is  simple  sensibility,  intensity  of  conscious- 
ness not  sufficiently  high  to  become  a  matter  of  con- 
sciousness, that  oftenest  seems  to  have  no  coloring  of 
pleasure  or  pain.  Positive  excitement,  it  is  safe  to  say, 
alwaj's  has  such  a  coloring;  and  we  may  say  conversely 

'  See  Ibe  exposiliou  of  H.  M.  Stanley,  Mind,  xiv.  p.  5^8. 


276  IDEAL  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN. 

that  positive  recognized  pleasure  aud  paiu  always  indi- 
cate excitement. 

Bain's  cases  of  "  neutral  excitement" '  have  been  suffi- 
ciently examined  by  Sully  ^  aud  others.  Bain  instances  sur- 
prise, restlessness,  Avide-awakenoss,  and  other  analogous  states, 
as  indifferent.  An  adequate  analysis,  however,  shows  a 
distinct  hedonic  value  in  them  all.  The  tone  of  surprise  runs 
so  quickly  into  the  pleasure  or  pain  of  the  event  anticipated 
that  it  is  difficult  to  isolate  it.  But  as  pure  excitement,  sur- 
prise seems  to  fulfil  the  law  by  which  moderate  stimulation  is 
pleasurable.  The  tone  of  excitement  is  generalized  poj)u]arly 
in  the  phrase  "love  of  excitement."  The  further  fact  urged 
by  Bain  and  noted  by  Sidgwick,^  i.e.,  that  the  intensity  of 
pleasure  and  pain  is  not  commensurate  with  the  intensity  of 
excitement,  finds  a  ready  explanation  in  the  fact  that  excite- 
ment is  cumulative.  It  summates  by  addition;  while  pleasure 
and  pain  tend  to  neutralize  each  other  in  some  instances. 
An  alternation  of  hope  and  fear,  for  example,  throws  con- 
sciousness into  intense  excitement,  while  at  least  four  elements 
of  tone  are  present,  confusing  and  annulling  one  another,  i.e., 
pain  of  suspense,  pleasure  of  excitement,  pain  of  fear,  and 
pleasure  of  hope.  The  excitement  is  stimulated  by  all  the 
elements  together;  the  tone  reflects  now  one,  now  another. 
But  when  the  others  subside,  tlie  pleasure  of  excitement 
comes  out  alone.  That  pleasure  and  pain  may  be  acquired — 
as  pleasure  in  horse-racing — only  goes  to  show  that  the  worth 
of  the  object  of  the  emotions  may  change,  not  that  excitement 
has  no  constant  tone. 

In  regard  to  general  sensibility — consciousness  of 
each  mental  event  for  itself,  apart  from  the  added  con- 
sciousness of  excitement — the  case  is  somewhat  different. 
In  the  case  of  many  sensations,  complete  indifference  is 
claimed.  A  simple  sound  seems  to  give  neither  pleasure 
nor  pain.  The  sight  of  a  button  on  my  coat  is  indiffer- 
ent. This  position  is  further  strengthened  by  the  prob- 
able fact,  already  mentioned,  that  physical  pleasure  and 
pain  involve  distinct  nerve  elements  or  processes ;  and 

'  Mind,  xir.  376,  and  xiv.  97. 

*  Mind,  XIII.  248. 

»  Methods  of  Ethics,  pp.  45  aad  48.     Cf.  also  pp.  178-94. 


INDIFFERENCE.  277 

tliat  sensations  of  pressure,  temperature,  etc.,  may  be 
entirely  separated  from  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain. 

This  might  be  valid  as  far  as  pure  sensation  is  con- 
cerned ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  in  our  ordinary 
lives  pure  sensation  is  a  fiction.  Even  in  the  simplest 
bodily  feelings,  if  they  occup}^  the  attentive  conscious- 
ness, an  element  of  sj'nthesis  is  involved,  which  has  its 
own  law  of  tone.  The  hedonic  condition  is  one  of  mental 
function  as  well  as  one  of  bodily  well-  or  ill-being,  and 
while  the  nerves  of  phj^sical  tone  may  be  isolated  from 
the  sensational  process  proper,  we  know  of  no  way 
to  isolate  and  destroy  that  element  of  the  hedonic 
consciousness  which  colors  the  apperceptive  process. 
Consequently  we  are  thrown  back  upon  the  inquiry  as 
to  whether  intellectual  operations  are  ever  without  some 
hedonic  value. 

Empirically  we  are  here  in  the  presence  of  the 
phenomena  called  subconscious,  least  conscious,  and 
unconscious.  Many  of  our  perceptions  and  thoughts 
seem  to  pass  before  us  with  no  interest  and  no  tone ;  we 
can  recall  the  thoughts,  but  we  are  as  indifferent  to  such 
recall  as  we  were  to  their  original  presentation.  If  there 
were  pleasure  or  pain,  it  has  lapsed  into  the  subconscious. 
Undoubtedly  Waitz  is  right  in  saying '  that  if  any  mental 
states  are  indifferent  to  us  it  is  those  which  are  of  no 
worth  to  us.  But  it  may  be  asked  in  reply,  with  Lotze  : 
Are  any  states  quite  worthless  ?  What  I  see  with  indif- 
ference now  was  once  a  pleasant  novelty  or  a  painful 
shock.  Every  new  adjustment  of  the  attention  carries 
evident  pleasure  of  activity,  and  each  subsequent  adjust- 
ment differs  from  the  first  only  in  the  degree  of  its 
affective  coloring.  As  Lotze  sums  the  matter  up,  "  we 
can  conceive  no  state  not  either  in  harmony  with  the 
conditions  of  psychic  development  or  somehow  contrary 
to  them." ' 


Lehrhuch,  p.  290.  '  Microcoamus,  i.  243. 


278  IDEAL  PLEASURE  AND  FAIN. 

Accordingly,  when  we  speak  of  indifference,  we  mean 
practical  indifference:  lack  of  excitemejit,  not  lack  of  tone. 
To  many,  felt  indifference  is  itself  very  pleasurable,  and  is 
much  cultivated.  As  soon  as  we  begin  to  theorize  we  find 
that  "active  neutfality,"  to  use  Dumont's  pln-ase,  is  all  tiiat 
can  be  justified.  But  we  do  find  here,  as  elsewhere,  that  con- 
sciousness is  a  matter  of  relative  intensities,  and  that  pleasure 
and  pain,  lilie  presentations  in  general,  may  be  so  completely 
out  of  attention  as  to  seem  out  of  consciousness.  The  evolu- 
tionists reject  pure  indifference  for  the  reason  that  it  would 
serve  no  purpose  in  the  development  of  the  organism.'  The 
further  argument  (Wundt)  that  pleasure  shades  down  into 
pain,  giving  a  point  in  the  curve  which  is  neither, — i.e.,  indif- 
ferent,— is  ingeniously  met  by  Hoffding,  who  cites  the  fact 
established  by  experiments  to  determine  the  threshold  value 
of  sensation,  that  tlie  point  of  neutrality  between  pleasure 
and  pain  varies  according  as  it  is  approached  from  above  (by 
diminishing  pleasure)  or  from  below  (by  diminishing  pain).^ 

Complexity  of  Tone-states.  It  is  now  clear  that  the 
hedonic  coloring  of  consciousness,  at  any  time,  is  not  a 
simple  thing.  Pleasure  or  pain  are  rei3orted  from  the 
body  and  from  the  mind,  from  many  organs  of  the  body 
at  once,  and  from  many  mental  "  moments"  at  once. 
Hope  and  fear  may  be  struggling  within,  the  will  may 
be  painfully  paralyzed,  attention  distracted,  and  wdtli  it 
all,  a  beating  sun  may  annoy,  an  aching  tooth  distress, 
and  all  go  to  make  up  a  complex  condition  of  tone.  So 
mental  and  physical  conditions  may  combine  to  produce 
pleasure  ;  and  all  possible  combinations  may,  and  do, 
arise  in  kaleidoscopic  order. 

The  elements,  however,  of  this  complex  eff'ect  may  be 
generally  distinguished  in  consciousness.  They  do  not 
coalesce  except  in  their  general  tendency  to  produce 
emotional  excitement,  which  has  its  own  tone.  If  the 
two  hands  be  held  under  two  streams  of  water,  very  hot 
and  pleasantly  cool,  respectively,  the  two  hedonic  effects 
may  be  clearly  distinguished  from  each  other.     So,  as 

'  Schneider,  Thier.  Wille,  p.  95. 
2  Outlines,  p.  287. 


MEL  ATI  VI TY  OF  IDEAL  TONE.  279 

already  pointed  out,  the  pain  of  suspense  arises  from  the 
excitement  of  alternating  hope  and  dread,  and  persists 
aj)art  from  the  j^leasure  and  pain  of  those  emotions 
themselves  as  tliej  struggle  in  consciousness. 

The  maximnni  happiness  of  the  individual  would  be  the 
harmony  of  all  these  conditions,  in  reporting  each  its  maxi- 
mum of  pleasure,  and  the  maximum  pain  would  be  the  reverse. 
But  this  maximum  would  vary  with  individuals,  according  to 
the  relation  of  these  several  springs  of  pleasure  and  pain  to 
one  another,  and  according  to  the  degree  of  culture  attach- 
ing to  each.  In  heaven,  the  child  would  lose  nothing  from 
perfect  happiness  because  the  saint  was  immeasurably  more 
happy.  Probably  our  happiest  condition  is  one  in  which  we 
alternate  between  activity  in  which  there  is  no  thought  of 
self,  and  sudden  inward  glimpses  of  ourselves  by  which  we 
discover  liow  happy  we  are. 

Relativity  of  Ideal  Pleasure  and  Pain.  What  has 
already  been  said  of  the  relativity  of  general  ideal 
feeling  holds  also  of  ideal  pleasure  and  pain.  Each  is 
made  more  vivid  by  contrast  with  the  other.  Ideal 
hedonic  states  are  further,  more  lasting  and  important 
than  physical  ;  because,  probably,  the  intellectual  con- 
ditions are  more  revivable  than  the  ph3'sical.  The 
possibility,  also,  of  artificially  acquiring  pleasure  is 
greater  in  the  case  of  ideal  states.'  Farther,  of  the  two 
ideal  states,  pain  is  more  vivid,  acute,  and  permanent 
than  pleasure — w  hat  we  w^ould  expect  by  analogy  from 
the  similar  relation  of  sensuous  pleasure  and  pain." 

On  feeling  as  indifference,  consult  :  l^farshall.  Mind,  xiv.  p.  511; 
Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  p.  1:},  and  Mind,  xii.  p.  376  ;  Stanley, 
Mind,  XIV.  p.  538  ;  Sully,  Johnson,  Mason,  Mind,  xni ;  Nahlowsky, 
hjc.  cit.,  p.  15  ;  Lotze,  Mmromsmus,  I.  p.  243  ;  Dutnont,  foe.  cit., 
p.  297:  Sidgwick,  Methods  of  Elhies,  pp.  178-194;  Bouillier,  Plaisir 
et  Douleur,  pp.  86-88  ;  Hamilton,  Metaph;/si(;s,  pp.  525-27  ;  Ladd, 
references,  Elements  of  Pkys.  Psych.,  \)\).  509,  510. 

'  Cf.  Spencer.  Psycholoc/y,  i^  128. 
2  Biiin,  Emotions  and  Will,  p.  107. 


PART  lY. 

WILL. 
MOTOR  ASPECTS  OP  SENSUOUS  FEELING. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   MOTOR    CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§  1.  Idea  of  the  Motor  Consciousness. 

The  general  notion  of  the  motor  consciousness  has 
already  been  made  more  or  less  plain.  By  it  is  meant 
the  ensemble  of  elements  in  consciousness,  contributed  in 
any  way  by  the  motor  apparatus.  If  there  be  conscious- 
ness of  the  condition  of  the  motor  areas  in  the  brain, 
of  the  process  of  the  outward  flow  of  the  nervous 
current,  of  movements  taking  place  or  having  taken 
place — all  are  elements  of  the  motor  consciousness. 
The  phrase,  therefore,  is  most  general;  and  it  may  be 
defined  as  consciousness  in  as  far  as  it  is  concerned  icith 
Tnuscular  movement.  Its  further  difierentiation  and  analy- 
sis are  questions  left  open  for  any  hypotheses  which 
may  be  able  to  make  good  their  claim. 

The  motor  consciousness  is,  therefore,  simply  con- 
sciousness as  filled  up  with  a  particular  class  of  feelings 
or  revivals  of  such  feelings.  These  feelings  have  already 
been  roughly  distinguished '  from  other  elements  of  the 
general  sensibility.  They  are  thereby,  also,  set  apart  as 
feelings,   afi'ective   states ;  the  fact  that  they  are  asso- 

1  Muscular  Feelings,  Chap.  IV.  §  2,  above. 

380 


MENTAL  DTNAMOGENESIS.  281 

ciated  witli  movements  is  simply  an  added  fact  to  tlie 
statement  of  their  intrinsic  nature  as  feelings. 

Law  of  Mental  Dynamogenesis.  Empirical  observa- 
tion tends  overwhelmingly  to  confirm  the  inference  we 
would  expect  from  the  law  of  nervous  dynamogenesis,' 
i.e.,  that  every  state  of  consciousness  tends  to  realize  itself 
in  an  appropriate  mnscidar  movement.  The  nervous  ap- 
plication of  the  law  leads  up  at  once  to  its  applica- 
tion to  sensibility.  If  every  ingoing  j)rocess  produces 
an  outward  tension,  or  tendency  to  muscular  discharge, 
and  the  more  intense  and  integrated  conditions  of  cen- 
tral stimulation  be  most  delicately  adjusted  to  such  a 
play  of  incoming  and  outgoing  processes  ;  then  we  would 
expect  the  sensible  modifications  Avhich  accompany  these 
more  complex  conditions  to  tend  to  a  form  of  conscious- 
ness peculiar  to  the  motor  reaction.  That  is,  we  would 
expect  the  aflective  consciousness  to  merge  into  the 
motor  consciousness,  just  as  the  ingoing  nervous  pro- 
cess tends  to  the  discharge  of  energy  into  the  outgoing 
courses. 

The  analogy,  therefore,  may  be  put  something  like 
this :  the  nervous  system  in  its  development  has  taken 
on  the  two  functions  called  stimulation  and  reaction. 
"When  consciousness  arises,  it  is  at  least — whatever  else 
it  be — an  aid  through  pleasure  and  pain  to  the  life- 
process,  and  to  the  further  development  of  the  system.' 
Analogy  would  lead  us  to  look,  therefore,  for  this  new 
factor  in  connection  with  each  of  the  two  essential  ner- 
vous functions,  stimulation  and  reaction. 

So  much  may  be  fairly  said  apart  from  the  consideration 
of  the  details  of  the  motor  consciousness  ;  tluit  is,  simply 
from  the  actual  fact  of  such  a  thing  as  the  motor  conscious- 

•  Above,  Chap.  I.  §  3. 

'  The  lij'pothesis  is  quite  in  order  here,  that  this  f\irther  develop- 
ment of  the  nervous  system  is/or  the  sake  of  consciousiiess,  i.e.,  mind. 


282  THE  MOTOR  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

ness.  The  interpretation  of  the  details  may  show  that  the 
analogy  does  not  hold  in  tliis  form  :  that,  after  all,  the  motor 
element  is  only  a  qualitative  element,  distinguishable,  as  other 
qualitative  elements  are,  within  the  consciousness  which  ac- 
companies the  sensor-nervous  p»rocess.  At  any  rate,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  some  of  our  motor  feelings  are  such,  i.e.,  the  class 
called  above  Jcinmsthetic.  If  this  possibility  be  confirmed, 
then  innervation-tQeYmgs,  as  a  class  distinct  from  kinesthetic 
feelings,  will  disappear.  It  is  enough,  however,  at  this  point, 
to  make  it  plain  that  the  nervous  analogy  is  on  the  side  of 
feelings  of  innervation :  and  that,  if  the  contrary  is  proved, 
it  must  be  by  evidence  strong  enough  to  overthrow  this 
analogy.  And  the  strongest  proof,  apart  from  fact,  would  be 
to  show  that  an  improved  concej^tion  of  nervous  development 
may  dispense  with  an  element  of  consciousness  belonging  to 
the  reactive  function  of  the  system,  as  such. 

The  concomitance  of  the  nerve 
processes  and  their  conscious  states, 
if  the  above  analogy  holds  in  a  simple 
way,  is  shown  in  Figure  15,  w^liich 
represents  the  normal  motor  con- 
sciousness by  means  of  the  "  motor 
sq^uare." 

Varieties  of  Motor  Consciousness.  If  it  be  true  that 
all  states  of  consciousness  tend  more  or  less  strongly 
to  bring  about  appropriate  muscular  reactions,  we  should 
find  several  phases  in  the  motor  consciousness.  And 
this  is  true.  It  is,  indeed,  one  result  of  this  truth,  as 
empirically  observed,  that  we  are  able  to  say  that  all 
states  of  consciousness  have  a  dynamogenetic  influence. 
It  is  our  task,  accordingly,  at  this  point,  to  trace  the 
motor  bearing  of  the  different  kinds  of  consciousness 
which  have  been  already  distinguished,  i.e.,  to  discuss 
the  motor  value  of  the  subconscious,  of  reactive  and 
of  voluntary  consciousness,  respectively,  as  far  as  this 
value  w.f€lt. 


Dip 


SUBCONSCIOUS  BE  ACTION.  283 


§  2.  Motor  Value  of  the  Subcois'scious. 

The  facts  already  adduced  to  illustrate  subconscious 
plienomena  are  largely  motor  facts.  Motor  plieuomena 
which  fall  below  the  threshold  of  conscious  reaction 
belong  partly  to  the  subconscious  and  partly  to  the 
unconscious  ;  that  is,  partly  to  very  weak  sensibility  and 
partly  to  sentience.  But  it  is  impossible  to  draw  a  line 
of  distinction  between  them,  and  the  attempt  to  do  so 
would  be  quite  artificial.  We  shall,  therefore,  mass 
such  reactions  together  under  the  above  heading,  claim- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  license  to  include  those  reactions 
which  are,  as  reactions,  purely  nervous. 

In  the  case  of  a  subconscious  reaction,  we  come 
across  the  curious  fact  that  a  nervous  process  itself 
insufficient  to  call  out  sensibility  may  have  'muscular 
effects  which  are  quite  sensible.  We  respond  to  stimuli 
which  we  do  not  discern,  and  which  we  fail  afterwards, 
perhaps,  to  discover  by  introspection.  We  often  speak 
or  write  words  which  we  do  not  mean  and  have  not  been 
tliinking  of.  Associations  often  lack  conscious  links. 
We  respond  to  a  settling  chair  by  balancing  the  body, 
to  differences  in  the  material  we  tread  upon,  by  increased 
muscular  tension.  In  short,  close  observation  leads  to 
the  conclusion  that  we  are  constantly  alert  to  our  sur- 
roundings when  we  are  apparently  unconscious  of  them. 
The  whole  class  of  coordinating  reflexes  already  de- 
scribed belong  here.  The  most  unmistakable  class  of 
cases  covers  suggestions  made  in  the  hypnotic  state, 
which  are  carried  out  many  days  afterward  in  the  normal 
state,  the  individual  being  unable  to  give  any  reason  for 
his  action.  In  this  case,  we  seem  to  have  absolute  un- 
consciousness, a  physiological  reaction  apart  from  any 
modification  in  the  major  consciousness,  whatever  we 
may  say  about  the  existence  of  a  secondarj'  conscious- 


284:  THE  MOTOR  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

ness.  There  are  other  states  which  are  very  vaguely  or 
dimly  conscious,  such  as  presentations  of  objects,  or 
memories  of  events,  so  habitual  as  to  be  reacted  upon 
without  attention.  We  walk  about  our  own  house,  hang 
our  hats  up,  and  rub  our  shoes,  and  then,  when  asked, 
are  unable  to  tell  whether  we  did  any  such  things  or  not. 
"We  wind  our  watch  at  night,  and  learn  the  fact  later  only 
by  trying  to  wind  it  again.  We  suddenly  discover  our- 
selves half-dressed  in  the  morning  in  garments  we  had 
decided  to  wear  no  more.  We  take  a  walk,  forget  our 
errand,  and  soon  "  rein  up"  in  the  most  unexpected  part 
of  the  city.  In  the  horse-cars  we  brace  ourselves  from 
the  jolting,  move  up  and  give  another  half  the  seat,  and 
often  pay  our  fare  without  taking  our  attention  from  the 
morning  paper,  A  nervous  man  will  arrange  his  necktie 
or  stroke  his  mustache  fifty  times  a  day  without  "  know- 
ing" it,  and  all  of  us  have  our  little  motor  habits,  which 
we  are  conscious  of  but  do  not  observe.  Perhaps  as  clear 
a  case  of  a  direct  adaptation  of  our  movements  to  objects 
of  which  we  are  only  passively  conscious  is  the  way  we 
pass  about  in  a  well-filled  drawing-room  when  wrapped 
in  thought,  avoiding  all  obstacles  by  a  most  circuitous 
and  irregular  route. 

It  is  only  by  license  that  the  physical  type  of  reaction  is 
here  in  point.  Its  explanation  is  found  in  the  law  of  consoli- 
dation or  downward  growth  of  the  nervous  system.  When  a 
sensori-motor  connection  or  nervous  arc  becomes  so  free  in  its 
reaction  as  not  to  involve  a  higlier  centre,  its  stimulus  excites 
itj  but  does  not  arouse  consciousness.  The  reaction,  how- 
ever, is  reported  to  consciousness  in  terms  of  muscular  move- 
ments, whose  effects  are  members  of  other  more  complex  arcs; 
we  know,  that  is,  tliat  the  movement  has  taken  place.  Auto- 
matic and  simple  reflex  nervous  reactions,  therefore,  supply 
the  physiological  basis  of  subconscious  sensibility — as  ftir  as 
there  is  any  sensibility  accompanying  such  reactions.  In 
general,  any  reaction  performed  in  entire  inde^iendence  of  the 
attention  belongs  to  this  class. 


ELEMENTS  OF  REACTIVE  CONSCIOUSNESS.        28i7 

§  3.  Motor  Value  of  the  Reactive  Consciousness. 

The  reactive  consciousness  has  ah'eacly  been  charac- 
terized with  sufficient  clearness.  It  is  marked  off  from 
passive  consciousness  by  the  presence  of  a  reaction  of 
the  attention,  i.e.,  by  the  presence  of  reflex  attention.' 
The  term  reaction  brings  out  clearly  the  fact  that,  in 
such  case,  the  attention  is  in  response  to  an  unexpected 
and  unpremeditated  stimulus.  As  has  been  said  above, 
there  is  just  as  truly  a  reaction  in  consciousness  as  there 
is  in  the  nervous  system,  although  the  elements  of  the 
reaction  are  often  thrown  out  of  their  true  order  when 
taken  up  into  the  discriminating  process.  For  example, 
I  hear  a  loud  unexpected  sound,  and  turn  my  head  in- 
voluntarily in  the  direction  from  which  it  seems  to  come. 
The  order  of  events  appears  to  be  this  :  first,  the  sound ; 
then  my  sensation  of  sound  ;  then  the  attentive  impulse 
carrying  with  it,  first,  the  grosser  movements  of  the  head 
and  trunk,  and,  afterwards,  the  finer  movements  of  the 
eye-muscles,  etc.,  engaged  when  the  attention  is  concen- 
trated ;  then  a  discrimination  of  the  sound  through  the 
attention ;  and.  finally,  a  motor  response  to  it.  This  is 
not  the  order,  however,  in  which  I  mj^self  apprehend  or 
recognize  the  different  elements  in  the  reaction.  About 
the  first  thing  I  knoiv  in  such  a  case  is  that  I  have  sud- 
denly turned  my  head  and  body,  and  am  concentrating 
my  attention  upon  something  which  I  now  subsequently 
learn  to  be  a  sound.' 

'  The  reliiliims  of  these  so-called  kinds  of  consciousness  to  attention 
ma}'  be  illustrated  as  follows: 

t  Passive  Dilfused.      \ 

Consciousness.  •<  Reactive Reflex.  >•  Attention. 

(  Voluntary Voluntary.  ' 

'  This  sul)ver.sion  of  tlie  serial  order  has  an  interesting  illustration  in 
psychonietrical  experiment:  the  experimenter  often  reacts,  and  only 
learns  by  a  later  act  of  discrimination  that  he  bus  mistaken  or  antici- 
pated the  signal  ("ound). 


286  THE  MOTOR  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Elements  of  the  Reactive  Consciousness.  Here,  again, 
we  must  refuse  to  abide  by  the  intellectual  apperception 
view,  and  go  back  to  tlie  feeling  view  of  tbe  case.  Taking 
the  reaction,  then,  as  a  felt  reaction,  and  considering  its 
elements  in  the  order  made  typical  in  cases  of  nervous 
reaction,  we  find,  first,  a  stimulus  to  the  reactive  conscious- 
ness, i.e.,  whatever  affective  or  feeling  element  in  con- 
sciousness calls  out  an  involuntary  act  of  attention; 
second,  the  feeling  of  expenditure  in  an  act  of  attention 
which  is  drawn  out  without  volition,  whatever  this  feel- 
ing may  be  found  to  include  ;  and  third,  the  feelings  of 
the  muscular  movements  appropriate  to  the  particular 
stimulus. 

Of  these  three  elements  of  the  reactive  conscious- 
ness, the  last  maj'  be  considered  as  comprehending  only 
the  feelings  of  movements  already  executed  ;  that  is, 
feelings  coming  in  from  the  grosser  muscles  of  the  body, 
etc.  These  constitute  a  clear  kinsesthetic  contribution 
to  the  motor  consciousness. 

The  stimulus  in  this  form  of  consciousness  is  treated 
in  a  later  connection :  so  it  remains  for  us  to  inquire  into 
the  feelings  which  properly  belong  to  the  act  of  involun- 
tary attention  itself,  so-called  feelings  of  expenditure. 
And  they  must  be  considered  independently  of  feelings 
of  voluntary  effort :  if  we  are  able  to  reach  a  coherent 
conclusion  regarding  expenditure  alone,  it  will  be  of  great 
service  to  us  when  we  come  to  consider  effort. 


§  4.  Feelixg  of  Expexditure  in  Attextion'. 

Description.  A  description  of  the  sensuous  feelings 
which  go  to  make  up  the  consciousness  of  movement 
has  already  been  attempted.  It  remains  to  ask  whether 
the  phenomenon  of  involuntary  attention  confirms  that 
description,  and  whether,  further,  any  light  can  be 
thrown  upon  the  feeling  of  the  act  of  attention  itself. 


"^  /        [{FEELiNG   OF  REFLEX  ATTENTION.  287 

'         -  i 

Inspection  of  such  an  act  of  attention  leads  to  tlie  detec- 
tion of  the  following  elements. 
ly-  1.  Feeling  of  Iieadiness  to  Attend :  Mental  Potentud. 
Such  a  feeling  of  readiness  or  potentud  has  already 
appeared  in  connection  with  muscular  movement.  Mus- 
cular freshness  and  vigor  pervade  the  entire  organic 
system :  so  readiness  to  give  attention  or  to  do  intellect- 
ual work  is  a  clear  and  well-marked  state  of  conscious- 
ness. And  the  two  seem  to  be,  in  part  at  least,  distinct 
from  each  other.  After  confining  myself  to  my  writing- 
table  all  the  morning,  my  attention  loses  its  elasticity 
and  readiness  of  concentration  :  but  my  muscular  system 
begins  to  feel  an  overabundance  of  energy,  a  pressing 
readiness  for  exercise.  And  when  I  give  up  my  intel- 
lectual task  and  indulge  my  craving  for  exercise,  I  have 
a  peculiar  feeling  of  throwing  off  the  mental  weight,  of 
getting  rid  of  the  thraldom  of  ideas,  in  the  easy  enjoy- 
ment of  muscular  activity.  However  we  may  account 
for  it,  the  difference  in  consciousness  between  feelings  of 
intellectual  and  of  muscular  potential  is  well  marked. 
Intellectual  readiness  probably  includes  both  central 
nervous  and  muscular  freshness. 

2.  Feeling  of  Fatigue  of  Attention.  The  state  of  the 
case  is  about  the  same  between  intellectual  and  muscu- 
lar fatigue.  The  question  whether  there  is  nervous 
fatigue  apart  from  the  fatigue  of  particular  muscles  has 
already  been  adverted  to.  It  is  difficult  to  divide  tins 
question  in  two  parts  and  su}y[)ose  purely  intellectual 
fatigue  apart  from  nervous  fatigue.  The  feeling  of  fatigue 
in  attention  may  be  taken,  provisionally  at  least,  to  in- 
clude, first,  fatigue  of  the  nervous  system,  either  in  the 
sensorium  as  a  whole,  or  in  the  particular  elements  which 
are  brought  into  play  in  the  activity  which  occasions 
the  fatigue,  and,  second,  an  element  of  lowered  muscular 
tone.' 


'  Cf.  JMosso,  Archiv fur  Anal,  uiid  Phi/n.,  Vhys.  Abth.,  1890,  p.  89. 


288  THE  MOTOR  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Considered  in  tliis  way,  fatigue,  as  a  feeling,  is  the 
opposite  of  the  potential  feeling  :  that  is,  it  indicates 
unreadiness,  or  low  potential,  in  the  attentive  activity.  And 
the  two  would  seem  to  find  their  explanation  in  the  same 
hypothesis.  The  sequence  of  these  feelings,  therefore,  is 
at  first  sight  the  same  as  the  sequence  of  the  muscular 
feelings  of  potential  and  fatigue.' 

3.  Feeling  of  Activity  in  Acts  of  Involuntary  Attention. 
The  central  point  of  expenditure  is  reached  in  the  feel- 
ing of  actual  activity  during  the  attention.  If  readiness 
precedes  the  attention,  and  if  fatigue  follows  it,  what 
feeling  do  we  have  during  it — at  the  very  moment  of  it  ? 
Is  there  a  feeling  of  activity,  apart  from  the  feelings  of 
all  kinds  now  described  ?  Postulating  such  an  element 
of  consciousness  at  this  point,  and  remembering  the  cor- 
responding postulate  made  above  of  a  feeling  of  nervous 
outgo,  or  activity,  it  remains  to  examine  both  postulates, 
and  further,  to  see  if  there  be  any  ground  for  the  opinion 
that  the  two  postulates  represent  one  and  the  same  fact. 

Sensorial  and  Intellectual  Attention.  Further,  invol- 
untary attention  is  either  sensorial,  i.e.,  terminating  on  a 
part  of  the  body  or  on  an  object,  or  intellectual,  i.e.,  ter- 
minating on  an  image.  The  case  of  the  sound  which 
causes  a  start  is  typical  of  the  former  :  the  play  of  images 
in  passive  imagination,  or  revery,  when  all  control  is 
withdrawn,  illustrates  the  latter.  The  question  before  us 
ma}^  be  put  separately  for  these  two  cases :  and  the  word 
"  thought "  will  be  used  to  designate  the  play  of  ideas  in 
apperception,  apart  from  any  voluntary  influence  we  may 
have  over  them. 

The  problem  of  the  feeling  of  attention  is  thus  sim- 
plified, and  three  plain  questions  now  confront  us  :  First, 
are  we  conscious  of  nervous  outgo  from  the  brain,  or  is 

'  See  above,  Chap.  IV.  §  2. 


THEORIES  OF  REFLEX  ATTENTION.  289 

our  consciousness  only  of  the  effects  of  sueli  outgo  ? 
Second,  are  we  conscious  of  an  activity  of  attention  or 
thouglit,  or  only  of  the  effects  of  such  an  activity,  that  is, 
of  thinking  thoughts,  or  only  of  thought  thoughts '?  And 
third,  are  these  two  forms  of  consciousness  one  and  the 
same  thing? 

§  5.  Theories  of  Feeling  of  Activity  in   Eeflex 

Attention. 

The  questions  thus  put  are  answered  consistently 
among  themselves  in  two  great  ways,  indicating  two 
schools  of  thought.  Philosophical  conceptions  cannot 
be  excluded  here,  both  because  the  unreflecting  con- 
sciousness itself  supplies  the  conception  claimed  by 
many  to  be  most  philosophical,  and  because  the  facts 
are  so  extraordinarily  obscure  and  hypothetical  that 
hypothesis  alone  is  able  to  cope  with  them.  On  one 
hand,  the  solutions  of  the  three  questions  are  gathered 
into  what  we  may  call  the  postulate  of  a  principle  of  asso- 
ciated eff^ects,  and,  on  the  other,  into  that  of  a  spiritual 
principle. 

I.  Association  or  Effect  Theory  of  Reflex  Attention. 
This  theory  regards  reflex  attention  as  an  associated 
mass  of  incoming  muscular  feelings  and  memories  of 
such  feelings.  It  accordingly  holds,  in  answer  to  the 
third  question,  that  the  feeling  of  muscular  expenditure 
is  the  same  in  kind  as  that  of  expenditure  in  reflex  atten- 
tion, the  feelings  involved  in  the  two  cases  arising  from 
different  classes  of  muscles  and  muscular  memories. 
Thus  feelings  of  ordinary  expenditure  are  from  the  limbs 
moved,  with  their  traces  left  in  memory ;  while  feelings 
of  attention  are  from  certain  muscles  of  the  eye  and  eye- 
brow, skin  of  the  skull,  etc.,  with  memories  of  former 
acts  of  attention. 

Without  citing  detailed  evidence  this  position  seems 


290  THE  MOTOR  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

well  made  out :  it  suffices,  in  proof,  to  observe  that  the 
feeling  of  muscular  expenditure  is  not  present  when  the 
attention  is  entirely  absent.  If  my  arm  is  raised  me- 
chanically by  a  friend  who  comes  softly  behind  me  and 
grasps  my  hand,  I  do  not  feel  muscular  expenditure  ;  the 
feeling  is  quite  absent.  After  many  such  movements,  I 
betdu  to  feel  fatigue,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  clearly  muscular 
fatigue  :  an  effect  reported  by  the  afferent  process.  The 
same  is  seen  in  cases  of  sudden  twitching  of  the  muscles, 
due  to  isolated  discharges  in  the  brain,  and  in  pure 
reflexes :  they  are  known  only  after  their  occurrence. 
Consequently  the  third  question  may  be  thus  disposed  of. 

In  the  next  place,  this  theory  replies  to  the  second 
question  above,  i.e..  Are  we  conscious  of  the  activity^ 
process,  of  thought,  or  are  we  conscious  only  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  thought ;  of  thought-relating,  or  of  thought-rela- 
tions ?  The  answer  is  that  we  are  consciou3  only  of  the 
latter,  of  thoughts  after  they  are  thought.  Whenever 
we  catch  ourselves  thinking,  either  we  feel  that  we  have 
just  thought  something,  or  that  we  are  just  going  to 
think  something.  There  is  no  process  between  the  ab- 
sence of  the  second  term  of  my  thought  and  its  presence, 
no  gap  at  all.  For  example,  a  loud  sound  calls  my  atten- 
tion; there  is  no  interval  of  conscious  thinking,  no  feeling 
of  thinking,  between  the  absence  of  the  sound  and  its 
presence.  The  whole  case  is  a  succession  of  feelings 
thrown  into  temporary  confusion  by  a  new  feeling,  and 
the  eureka-ieeYmg  that  results,  when  I  recognize  the 
sound,  is  only  the  fortunate  circumstance  that  the  series 
ends  in  a  feeling  that  is  familiar.  Even  granted,  more- 
over, that  there  is  a  synthesis  in  thought,  yet  it  is 
known  by  the  presence  of  such  synthetic  constructions 
in  thought,  not  by  any  consciousness  of  the  process 
of  making  them. 

This  point,  again,  seems  to  be  well  taken  as  regards 
the  actual  elements  in  consciousness  at  any  given  stage 


THEORIES  OF  REFLEX  ATTENTION.  291 

of  thought.  It  is  a  mistake  to  say  that  we  feel  a  syn- 
thetic activity  iu  consciousness  wheu  volition  is  absent : 
all  that  we  feel  is  the  coming  together  and  disjoining 
again  of  elements.  That  this  is  the  result  of  an  activity 
is  an  implication,  a  necessary  presupposition,  not  a  felt 
fact.  The  analytic  method  consists  in  taking  a  some- 
thing found  in  the  mind  and  asking  how  we  got  it :  if  we 
were  conscious  of  the  process  of  getting  it  we  would  not 
need  to  ask  this  question. 

The  only  apparent  difficulty  with  this  position  is  to  ac- 
count for  th'e  different  degrees  of  ease  or  difficulty,  slowness 
or  rapidity,  of  thought  in  different  circumstances.  But  the 
advocates  of  the  eft'ect  theory  have  a  ready  answer  in  the 
analogy  between  mental  potential  and  fatigue  and  nervous 
potential  and  fatigue.  Taking  up  the  question  of  the  physical 
basis  of  the  latter  feelings,  it  seems  fair  to  suppose  that  their 
consideration  will  throw  some  light  upon  the  mental  feelings 
that  evidently  depend  so  closely  upon  them. 

There  are  two  possible  sources  from  which  considerations 
may  come  to  lead  us  to  modify  this  decision  :  first,  if  the  consid- 
eration of  physical  potential  and  fatigue  should  not  adequately 
account  for  mental  potential  and  fatigue,  the  h3'pothesis  of  a 
mental  expenditure  would  be  a  resource;  and  second,  the 
same  resource  may  be  necessary  from  the  consideration  of  the 
voluntary  attention  below. 

It  is  said  by  some'  that  we  must  be  conscious  of  the  amount 
of  attention  expended,  or  we  would  never  be  able  to  discrim- 
inate between  the  artificial  intensity  given  to  an  object  by  the 
attention,  and  the  real  intensity  of  the  object  itself.  But 
any  such  consciousness  of  the  amount  of  expenditure  might, 
evidently,  arise  from  the  degree  of  muscular  sensation  in- 
volved in  the  concentration  of  attention. 

Accordingly,  only  the  first  of  our  three  questions  re- 
mains for  this  theory  to  give  reply  to,  i.e.,  Are  we  con- 
scious of  nervous  currents  as  they  pass  out  of  the  brain, 
or  are  we  conscious  only  of  the  effects  of  such  currents 
in  actual  movements  of  the  muscles  ?     The  question  is 


Stunij-f,  TonpKycJwIogic,  i.  p.  71,  quoted  by  James. 


293  TEE  MOTOR  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

here  limited  to  cases  of  reactive  consciousuess  or  reflex 
attention,  as  before. 

The  effect  theory  is  not  slow  to  answer  this  question 
in  accordance  with  its  general  tenor.  Its  advocates  chal- 
lenge their  opponents  to  produce  any  case  of  such  feel- 
ings of  expenditure  that  cannot  be  explained  in  terms 
of  afferent  sensation.  The  present  state  of  the  discus- 
sion is  briefly  indicated  in  a  later  connection.' 

It  is  evident  that  this  last  question  is  not  an  important 
one  in  this  connection.  To  establish  a  consciousness  of  the 
outgoing  current  would  only  give  an  analogy  at  most  for  a 
consciousness  of  mental  outgo,  and  even  this  might  be  dis- 
puted by  those  who  hold  that  snch  a  nervous  cousciousness 
meets  the  entire  case.  As  long  as  we  confine  ourselves  to  the 
reactive  consciousness,  therefore,  the  effect  theory  of  attention 
seems  to  be  entirely  adequate  from  a  psychological  point  of  view. 

II.  Spiritual  Theory  of  Reflex  Attention.  Advocates 
of  the  spiritual  theory  claim  a  direct  consciousness  of  a 
mental  activity  in  feelings  of  expenditure.  The  prin- 
cipal argument  they  urge  is  drawn  from  the  apperceptive 
consciousness,  which  we  have  already  found  reason  to 
consider  an  exhibition  of  spiritual  synthesis.  In  brief,  it 
is  said  that  if  there  is  a  rational  activity  in  involuntary 
attention,  there  must  be  a  forceful  substantial  principle 
whose  activity  it  is  ;  and  it  is  this  which  we  feel  as  activity 
in  every  attentive  reaction.  This  argument  is  a  meta- 
physical one.^  It  proceeds  upon  the  supposition  that 
an  activity  is  always  a  force,  and,  further,  that  force  is  a 
criterion  of  substance. 

But  the  empirical  consciousness  gives  no  direct  con- 
firmation to  this  position.  The  relational  consciousness 
is  a  consciousness  of  relations  ;  but  this  does  not  make 


«  Below,  Chap.  XV.  §  2. 

'  Hering,  however,  argues  the  case  from  an  experimental  point  of 
view,  Hermann's  Eandbuch  der  Physiologie. 


CONCLUSION.  293 

necessary  an  element   of  consciousness  diie  to  a  pure 
activity  by  wliicli  these  relations  are  constituted. 

This  is  one  of  the  points  at  whicli  the  friends  of  the  spirit- 
ualistic hypothesis  claim  too  much.  Recent  discussion  has 
tended  to  purify  that  hypothesis  of  many  elements  long  thought 
essential  to  it.  It  is  not  in  place  here  to  be  dogmatic:  it  is 
sutiicieiit  to  say  that  in  the  writer's  view  the  place  to  defend 
spiritualism  is  in  connection  with  the  pheuomena  of  will. 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  association  theory  wliioh  is  vic- 
torious here  will  be  found  to  be  its  most  formidable  rival 
there.  But  it  should  also  be  remembered  that  the  associa- 
tion theory  fails  signally  to  account  for  the  relational  or  apper- 
ceptive constructions  of  the  intellect. 

The  distinction  between  what  is  really  reflex  or  involun- 
tary, in  the  attention,  and  what  is  voluntary,  must  be,  if 
possible,  clearly  made.  In  actual  fact,  the  voluntary  act  of 
concentration'  follows  so  closely  upon  the  simple  conscious 
reaction  that  it  may  be  only  an  abstraction  we  have  been 
pursuiTig  after  all;  but  in  this  connection  it  may  be  well  to 
remember  that  the  feeling  of  expenditure  was  called  above 
"  hypothetical."  The  pursuit  of  it  will  serve,  at  any  rate,  to 
free  us  from  a  superstition,  and  give  a  free  and  open  theatre 
for  the  discussion  of  the  voluntary  element  in  attention.  It 
is  really  an  open  question  whether  the  apperceptive  conscious- 
ness is  ever  quite  involuntary  or  reactive:  we  have  as  high  an 
authority  as  Wundt  holding  the  contrary^  ;  and  on  his  view, 
the  parallelism  between  the  synthetic  activity  of  relation  and 
the  forceful  activity  of  volition  holds  good.  There  is  some- 
thing temptingly  simple  about  this  ;  but  facts  seem  to  show 
that  there  is  often  attention  which  gives  us  knowledge  by 
simple  reflex  stimulation. 

§  G.  Conclusion  on  Eeactive  Consciousness. 

From  the  foregoing,  the  conclusion  is  that  the  re- 
active consciousness,  per  se,  is  simply  consciousness  of 
nervous  reactions,  and  memories  of  such  reactions  or  of 
their  elements.     As  far  as  there  is  a  consciousness  of 

'  The  further  altentioa  to  the  loud  sound  which  calls  me  out  at  first 
reflexiy. 

*  Stumpf  has  recently  developed  a  similar  view,  Tonpsychologie, 
vol.  II. 


204  THE  MOTOR  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

self  iu  reflex  attention,  it  is  an  objective  felt  self,  rather 
than  a  subjective,  feeling,  active,  self.  Whatever  ground 
may  be  found  subsequently  for  such  an  active  executive 
self,  we  find  no  such  ground  here. 

This  conclusion  is  thrown  into  prominence  by  the  en- 
tire group  of  facts  of  hj-pnotism.  Here  the  subject  is 
quite  and  entirely  reactive.  His  consciousness  of  his 
own  power  of  choice,  exertion,  initiative,  is  gone,  and 
the  mechanical  nature  of  his  nervous  processes  Avorks  up 
through  the  relational  consciousness  which  he  still  has. 
Instead  of  having  a  suggestion  from  without,  let  us  sup- 
pose him  acting  from  simple  sense-stimuli,  or  from  mem- 
ories thrown  into  his  consciousness  from  within,  and  the 
whole  case  is  plain  before  us.  Whatever  feeling  of  ac- 
tivity a  hypnotized  man  may  have,  it  is  evidently  an 
activity  of  his  nervous  system  as  it  reflects  the  activity 
of  the  mind  of  some  one  else. 

On  the  motor  consciousness  and  involuntary  attention,  consult : 
Preyer,  Mind  of  the  Child,  i.  chaps,  viii-xiv;  Wundt,  Me7isc7ien 
und  Thierseele,  14te  Vorl.;  James,  loc.  cit.,  i.  p.  434  ff.,  n.  chap, 
xxni,  and  (habit)  i.  chap,  iv-v;  Volkmann,  Lehrhuch,  §§  45-48; 
Lotze,  Medieinische  Psychologies  %%  24-27;  Warner,  Physical  Ex- 
j?re.ss/o«,  chap.  V;  Sergi,  Psych.  Phys.,  Hv.  v.  chaps.  1-3;  Schneider, 
Meiisch.  Wille,  chap,  xi ;  Ladd,  Elements,  part  n.  chap.  ix.  §§  26- 
31  ;  Bain,  Emotio?is  and  Will,  part  n.  chap.  i.  §§  6-8  ;  Carpenter, 
Ment.  Phys.,  bk.  i.  chap.  vi.  3,  chap,  vni  (habit),  and  bk.  i, 
chap.  HI  (attention)  ;  Fere,  Mind,  vni.  pp.  210  f.;  Ribot,  Psychology 
of  Attention  ;  N.  Lange,  Philos.  Studien,  iv  ;  Marillier,  Le  Meeha- 
nisme  de  V Attention ,  Revue  Philos.,  xxvii ;  G.  E.  Miiller,  Tiieorieder 
sin7iliche7i  Aufmej-ksamkeit ;  Stumpf ,  Tonpsychologie,  I.  p.  67  flf .  ; 
also  see  references  given  at  the  end  of  Chap.  V  in  the  author's 
Senses  and  Intellect,  and  at  the  end  of  Chap.  IV  above. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 

Experiments  upon  reflex  attention. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

•  Notion  of  Stimulus.  An  involuntary  reaction  in  move- 
ment has  already  been  analyzed  into  its  tliree  aspects  or 
parts  i.e.,  stimulus,  consciousness  of  reaction,  and  act- 
ual movement.  Further,  the  second  of  these  elements 
has  been  reduced  to  the  third  in  cases  where  volition 
does  not  enter.  Leaving  the  third  for  discussion  m 
connection  with  voluntary  movement,  it  remains  to  in- 
quire into  the  nature  of  the  various  stimulations  which 
issue  in  conscious  but  involuntary  reaction. 

By  stimulus  is  meant  the  affective  experience  of  any 
kind  which  tends  to  issue  in  conscious  motor  reaction. 
Looked  at  from  the  side  of  the  nervous  system,  it  is  the 
new  element  of  tension,  whenceever  it  comes,  which 
disturbs  the  equilibrium  outwards.  And  from  what  we 
already  know  of  the  nervous  system,  we  readily  see  that 
such  new  elements  of  tension  may  come  either  rom 
some  condition  of  the  nervous  organism  or  from  outside 
the  svstem.  Accordingly,  stimuli  to  the  reactive  con- 
sciousness may  be  distinguished  as  organic  and  extra- 
organic. 

§  1.  Kinds  of  Motor  Stimuli. 
I  Extra-organic  Stimuli  to  Movement.  The  vanous 
special  kinds  of  stimulation,  as  light,  sound,  etc  have 
already  been  sufficiently  discussed,  as  also  have  the  ex- 
ternal causes  of  the  more  obscure  phases  of  sensilnlity. 
All  of  these,  representing,  as  they  do.  difierent  environ- 


296  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

ing  conditions,  have  a  direct  or  acquired  motor  value. 
By  direct  motor  value  is  meant  tlie  reactions  M'liicli  cer- 
tain sensations  occasion :  reactions  wliich  seem  to  be 
inherited.  And  by  acquired  reactions  is  meant  the 
movements  which  we  come  to  associate  habitually  with 
certain  sensational  events.  An  example  of  the  former 
is  the  crying  of  a  child  in  jjain ;  and  of  the  latter,  the 
movements  of  speech  as  they  become  associated  with 
the  corresponding  word-sounds. 

Such  indirect  or  acquired  reactions  are  typical,  and 
simply  indicate  the  gradual  formation  of  defiuite  paths 
of  nervous  discharge  into  which  the  energy  of  the  stimu- 
lation is  gathered.  They  supersede  the  diffused  wave 
of  effects  found  before  such  pathways  are  formed.  In 
child-life  this  process  is  clearly  seen  in  operation.  The 
child  at  first  uses  hands,  feet,  and  tongue  together,  and 
only  gradually  becomes  able  to  gather  all  his  energy 
of  reaction  into  a  definite  and  appropriate  channel.  In 
adult  life,  also,  very  intense  stimulations  cannot  be  held 
within  their  ordinary  channels,  but  become  diffused 
through  many  courses  :  note  the  contortions  of  the  man 
undergoing  torture  at  the  hands  of  a  dentist. 

Stimuli  to  Reflex  Reactions.  All  reflexes  are  stimu- 
lated from  without :  and  they  cover  a  wide  range  of  phe- 
nomena. There  is  no  hard  and  fast  line  between  pure 
inherited  reflexes  and  the  acquired  coordinating  reflexes 
which  come  later.  The  stimulus  to  the  former  is  simple, 
and  calls  into  play  a  sj'stem  of  muscles  grown  together, 
so  to  speak,  for  a  particular  reaction.  Such  reflexes  upon 
external  stimuli  occur  in  earliest  childhood,  i.e.,  sucking, 
winking,  and  probably  the  first  essentials  of  walking — a 
reflex  alternation  of  the  legs,' — swallowing,  etc. 

'  Bain.  This  alternation  catne  out  very  clearly  in  the  case  of  my 
own  cliild,  but.  strange  to  say,  the  movement  of  the  legs  was  such  as  to 
carry  the  child  backward. 


SUGGESTION.  297 

Suggestion  as  Motor  Stimulus.'  By  suggestion  is 
meant  a  great  class  of  phenomena  typified  by  tLe  ab- 
rupt entrance  from  without  into  consciousness  of  an  idea 
or  image  which  becomes  a  part  of  the  stream  of  thought 
and  tends  to  produce  the  muscular  and  volitional  effects 
which  ordinarily  follow  upon  its  presence.  I  suggest  a 
course  of  action  to  my  friend — he  may  adopt  it.  Besides 
this  fact  of  ideal  suggestion,  there  is  what  may  be  called 
{physiological  suggestion :  covering  the  same  class  of  phe- 
nomena in  cases  where  the  suggestion  does  not  attain 
the  standing  of  a  conscious  image,  but  remains  subcon- 
scious. It  is  called  physiological  because  the  nervous 
process,  as  in  all  cases  of  very  faint  degrees  of  conscious- 
ness, is  largely  self-acting  or  reflex.  \  By  physiological 
suggestion,  therefore,  is  meant  the  bringing  about  of  a 
reaction  unconsciously  or  suhconsciously  by  means  of  an 
extra-organic  stimulus. 

The  clearest  examples  of  such  suggestions  occur  in 
sleep.  Words  spoken  to  the  sleeper  get  intelligently 
answered.  Positions  given  to  his  limbs  lead  to  others 
ordinarily  associated  with  them  :  the  sleeper  defends 
himself,  withdraws  from  danger,  etc.,  etc.  /'The  early  de- 
velopment of  the  child's  consciousness  proceeds  largely 
by  such  suggestions.  Before  mental  images  are  defi- 
nitely formed  and  subject  to  association,  we  find  many 
motor  reactions  stimulated  by  such  physiological  sug- 
gestions from  the  environment.  It  may  be  called  in 
child-life  the  pre-imitative  stage,  imitation  being  a  reac- 
tion stimulated  by  a  conscious  suggestion.  The  pro- 
cess in  physiological  suggestion  is  indicated  by  our 
"  motor  square,"  in  Fig.  1(5,  A  ;  sg  being  the  suggesting 
element. 

The  pliysiological  process  involved  in  such  reiictions  must 
lie  on  the  border  between  true  reflexes  and  ideal  suggestion. 

'  Cf.  tlie  vviiler's  obsorvulioiis  upon  his  child,  in  Science,  xvii  (1891), 

pp.  iiair. 


298  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT 

The_stimJil}^s  to  a  reflex  reaction  is  a  nervous  cause,  and  we 
need  the  word  suggestion  only  when  there  is  a  modification 
in  the  way  of  adaptation  or  unnecessary  response  to  the  incite- 
ment. Undoubtedly,  real  suggestion  involves  the  adaptive 
and  selective  function  wlTicTrTre  have  seen  to  belong  to  con- 
sciousness, even  in  its  lowest  and  dimmest  forms,  and  the 
hypothesis,  again,  of  one  or  more  secondary  consciousnesses 
found  useful  in  other  connections  would  help  us  here.  There 
may  be — Binet  and  Janet  would  say,  on  the  strength  of  many 
alleged  and  so  far  undisputed  facts,  that  there  is — a  subsidi- 
ary or  split-off  consciousness  which  acts  on  suggestions  over- 
looked or  unreceived   by   the  main  personal  consciousness. 

From  physiological  the  child  passes  to  sensori-mofor 
suggestion :  the  ty^De  of  reaction  which  illustrates  most 
clearly  the  law  of  djnamogenesis  already  stated.'  In 
this  case  it  is  a  sensation,  a  clear  state  of  consciousness, 
which  liberates  motor  energy  and  produces  moyement. 
Besides  the  inherited  sensori-motor  couples,  which  are 
numerous  and  well-marked,  other  reactions  grow  up 
early  in  life  and  become  habitual.  Of  the  latter,  the 
following  may  be  mentioned  in  particular. 

1.  Sleep-suggestions.  The  early  surroundings  and 
methods  of  inducing  sleep  become  powerful  reinforce- 
ments of  the  child's  drowsiness,  or  eyen  substitutes  for 
it.'' 

2.  Food  and  clothing  suggestions.  These  represent  the 
spheres  of  most  frequent  and  highly-spiced  joys  and 
sorrows,  and  their  reactions  soon  take  on  the  iuyoluntarv 
and  yet  highlj'  purposive  character  which  marks  our 
adult  attitudes  toward  dress  and  the  table. 

3.  Stiggestions  of  personality.  The  child  shows  prefer- 
ences for  indiyiduals  at  a  remarkably  early  age.  He 
seems  to  learn  and  respond  to  a  personal  presence  as  a 
whole.  Probably  the  voice  is  the  first  indication  of  his 
nurse's  or  mother's  personality  to  which  he  responds, 
then  touch,  then  the  sight  of  the  face. 

'  Above,  Chap.  XII.  t;  1. 

^  See  the  writer's  detailed  observations,  loc.  at. 


ORGANIC  STIMULI.  299 

4.  Imitative  suggestion.  The  simple  imitatiou  of  move- 
ments and  souuds,  clearly  manifested  about  the  seventh 
mouth  of  life. 

In  ideo-niotor  or  ideal  suggestion  we  pass  to  the 
motor  aspects  of  images,  reproductions.  And  here  the 
motor  accompaniments  are  largely  associations  and 
follow  the  laws  of  association.  As  soon,  further,  as 
reproductions  come  up,  with  their  suggested  trains,  we 
find  the  rise  of  will :  that  is,  they  become  stimuli  to  the 
voluntary  consciousness — a  topic  for  later  discussion. 
Yet  there  is  a  state  of  conflict  and  hindrance  amoner 
presentations  which  is  mechanical  in  its  issue,  the  atten- 
tion being  drawn  in  a  reflex  way.  So  states  of  vexation, 
divided  counsel,  conflicting  impulse,  and  hasty  decision 
against  one's  desire  for  deliberate  choice.  We  often  find 
ourselves  drawn  violently  apart,  precipitated  through  a 
whirl  of  suggested  courses  into  a  course  we  feel  unwilling 
to  acknowledge  as  our  own.  This  state,  called  by  the 
writer  deliberative  suggestion,  characterizes  many  actions 
of  the  young  child  before  will  is  clearly  exercised.' 
Figure  16,  B,  presents  a  diagram  of  sensori-motor  and 
ideal  suggestion. 


mp 


Fig.  16.— Suf^gestion. 

II.  Organic  Stimuli  to  Movement.  Again,  the  results 
of  the  former  classification  of  the  organic  sources  of 
feeling  serve  to  cover  a  great  area  of  the  present  toi)ic. 
In  general,  any  condition  of  the  organism,  be  it  active 

'  See  the  article  just  cited  for  a  detailed  example. 


300  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

or  passive,  which  is  sufficient  to  reach  consciousness, 
tends  to  muscular  expression,  either  natural  or  acquired. 
Any  derangement  of  the  digestion,  respiration,  or  circula- 
tion, quickens  or  deadens  muscular  tone,  and  comes  out, 
if  not  in  the  face,  yet  in  the  conduct  of  the  man.  The 
muscular  feelings  themselves,  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
"  general  sensibility,"  reflect  direct  changes  in  the  ten- 
dency and  direction  of  motor  reactions.  Diseases  of  the 
nervous  s^^stem  find  their  diagnosis  in  their  effects  upon 
the  muscular  apparatus  :  paralysis  means  rigidity ;  epi- 
lepsy, convulsions;  sleep,  flabbiness  of  the  muscles. 
The  effects  of  organic  stimulation  upon  the  motor  con- 
sciousness is  best  seen  in  conditions  of  pleasure  and 
pain. 

Expressive  Reactions.  Among  direct  or  native  reac- 
tions, an  important  class  are  called  expressive :  they  are 
differentiated  muscular  movements  which  reflect  uni- 
formly various  affective  states  of  consciousness.  These 
reactions  have  already  been  discussed  above.' 

Pleasure  and  Pain  as  Stimuli  to  Movement.  Perhaps 
the  most  direct  and  invariable  stimulus  to  involuntary 
movement  is  pain.  And  its  motor  force  is  indejoendent, 
as  it  seems,  of  the  intrinsic  experience  of  which  it  is  the 
tone.  The  motor  force  of  a  sensation  of  light,  for 
example,  may  be  in  direct  antagonism  to  the  motor  force 
of  the  i3ain  which  the  light  causes  to  a  diseased  eye. 
Despair  begets  inaction,  but  the  painfulness  of  it  begets 
restlessness.  This  is  only  to  say  that  the  tone  is  an 
element  of  sensibility  apart  from  the  sensation  it  accom- 
panies, and  that  both  the  one  and  the  other  have  motor 
force. 

Yet  the  fact  that  there  are  no  experiences  absolutely 
indifferent  as  respects  pleasure  or  pain  gives  the  motor 

1  Chap.  X.  g  1. 


PLEASURE  AND  PAIN  AS  STIMULI.  301 

aspect  of  tliem  an  universality  aud  importance  which 
must  be  acknowledged  and  provided  for  in  any  mental 
theory.  It  is  a  question  answered  often  in  the  negative, 
whether  any  course  of  conduct  is  ever  pursued  without 
primary  reference  to  the  pleasure  it  will  bring  or  the 
pain  it  will  avoid.  However  this  question  may  be  an- 
swered later,'  it  may  be  said  at  this  point  that  no  line  of 
muscular  reaction  is  possible  in  which  an  element  of 
motor  discharge  due  to  pleasure  or  pain  has  not  entered. 
This  must  be  true  if  the  fundamental  position  is  true 
that  every  ingoing  process  alters  the  equilibrium  of  the 
central  system  and  modifies  the  direction  of  its  outward 
tendenc}'.  Pleasure  and  pain  arising  from  bodily  states 
may,  therefore,  be  called  the  most  general  internal 
stimuli  to  the  reactive  consciousness. 

The  relation  of  sensuous  pleasure  and  pain  to  the  kinds  of 
sensibility  they  accompany  has  been  seen  to  be  tlie  same  as 
the  relation  of  ideal  tone  to  the  emotions:  and  the  distinction 
in  motor  force  between  tone  and  sensibility  proper,  if  made 
out  in  one  case,  might  be  expected  to  hold  in  the  other.  In 
other  words,  if  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  there  are  sensu- 
ous stimuli  to  the  reactive  consciousness  apart  from  pleasure 
and  puin,we  will  probably  find  two  kinds  of  ideal  stimuli  also 
in  the  voluntary  life,  i.e.,  that  pictured  pleasure  and  pain  are 
not  the  only  ends  of  voluntary  choice. 

The  universality  of  sensuous  tone,  already  remarked, 
makes  it  difficult  to  find  pure  stimuli  of  any  other  char- 
acter ;  yet  in  early  child-life  such  stimuli  do  appear. 
The  writer  is  convinced,  from  the  observations  referred 
to,  that  suggestion  is  such  an  original  motor  stimulus. 
That  suggestion  is  not  itself  guided  by  the  presence  or 
absence  of  pleasure  or  pain  is  evident  from  the  fact  that 
the  suggested  reaction  often  antagonizes  pleasurable  or 
induces  painful  consequences.  After  repetition,  the  re- 
sulting pleasure  or  p;iiu  becomes  the  controlling  intlu- 

'  Chap.  XIV.  g  2. 


302  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

ence,  "other  things  being  equal,"  and  so  the  suggested 
reactions  are  dropped,  in  the  one  case,  or  made  inten- 
tional, in  the  other  :  but  originally  the  suggestion  seems 
to  be  sufficient  unto  itself. 

Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain  Reactions.  The  motor 
reactions  stimulated  by  pleasure  and  pain  must  be  care- 
fully distinguished  from  similar  movements  which  the 
idea  or  inemory  of  pleasure  or  pain  leads  to.  Such  latter 
movements  are  spoken  of  later.  The  j3resence  of  sensu- 
ous tone  has  an  immediate  inllaence  on  movement,  apart 
from  the  traces  left  in  memory.  And  this  influence  may 
be  either  furthering  of  such  movement  or  inhibitory  of  it. 

We  have  already  seen  that  moderate  activities  are 
generally  pleasurable.  It  would  be  expected,  tlierefore, 
that  pain  would  have  a  deadening  and  quieting  eifect 
upon  the  muscular  system :  that  such  an  effect  would 
tend,  by  reducing  muscular  activity  to  a  moderate  amount, 
to  alleviate  the  pain  and  induce  pleasure.  It  may,  ac- 
cordingly, be  said  that  a  painful  motor  reaction  tends  to 
suppress  itself. 

Again,  in  cases  of  extreme  pain,  we  would  exjject,  in 
addition  to  the  above,  that  the  activities  of  other  motor 
elements  would  reinforce  the  inhibitory  process,  i.e., 
draw  off  energy  from  the  painful  reaction.  Accordingly, 
we  find  that  violent  pain  stimulates  a  diffused  and  convul- 
sive motor  reaction. 

And  yet  again,  since  pleasure  accompanies  moderate 
function,  we  would  expect  the  same  two  considerations 
to  operate  for  the  continuance  of  a  pleasurable  reaction; 
namely,  that  the  life-process  would  be  furthered  by  the 
repetition  of  a  pleasurable  reaction,  and  by  the  quieting 
of  other  activities  which  interfere  with  it  and  dissipate 
its  energy.  Hence  M^e  may  say,  a  'pleasurable  motor 
reaction  tends  to  persist. 


MOTOR  SPONTANEITY.  303 

Looked  at  physiologically,  it  is  cas}-  to  see  that  under  the 
action  of  these  principles  the  nervous  orgauism  very  early 
begins  to  adapt  itself  to  its  varied  stimuli.  Painful  reac- 
tions are  rapidly  dropped,  pleasurable  reactions  soon  become 
fixed  and  habitual,  and  the  law  of  pleasure  and  pain  becomes, 
for  the  reactive  consciousness,  the  principle  of  its  life.  Sup- 
pose the  infant  continued  to  hold  his  hand  in  the  flame  after 
he  felt  pain,  or  did  not  change  his  position  when  lying  upon 
a  pin;  or  suppose  he  withdrew  from  his  bottle  as  soon  as  he 
tasted  its  sweetness  :  if  he  continued  to  live  at  all,  it  would 
be  by  reason  of  assistance  from  others  who  had  learned  to 
live  on  another  principle. 

Here,  again,  a  sharp  line  is  drawn  between  the  reactive 
and  the  voluntary  consciousness.  The  effect  theory,  found 
sufficient  for  reactive  expenditure,  also  proves  sufficient  for 
reactive  stimulation,  i.e.,  we  have  not  appealed  so  far  to  any 
agency  beyond  the  consciousness  of  piiysiological  conditions 
for  the  incitement  of  muscular  movement. 

Motor  Spontaneity.  The  observation  of  infants 
clearly  tends  to  show  that  movement  is  no  less  original 
a  fact  than  feeling."  It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  all 
ante-natal  movements  are  in  response  to  feeling  condi- 
tions, as  claimed  by  some  ;  just  as  it  is  impossible  to 
prove  that  the  beginning  of  feeling  is  possible  only 
after  suilicient  physical  organization  to  make  motor 
reaction  possible,  as  claimed  by  others.  It  is  altogether 
probable  that  the  two  kinds  of  jihenomena  are  equally 
original,  and  depend  upon  each  other.  This  is  certainly 
the  case,  at  any  rate,  at  the  dawn  of  independent  life. 
Internal  conditions  of  the  organism  itself  are  sufficient 
stimuli  to  an  endless  variety  of  movements.  Such  re- 
actions which  are  simply  the  discharges,  the  outbursts, 
of  the  organism,  independent  of  definite  external  stimu- 
lation, are  called  sponfanrovs.  So  the  incessant  random 
movements  of  infants  and  the  extraordinary  rubber-like 
activity  of  the  year-old  child. 

'  Prcyer  finds  spoulaneouH  moveiDeiits  in  tlie  enibiyo  chick  "  witli- 
oul  tlu' least  chiingcin  llie  s)iii()un(linf;:san(l  long  before  Ihe  retlex  excila- 
biiily  is  prescul  al  all."     Mind  of  the  Child,  Uans.,  i.  p.  201. 


304  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

The  movements  of  infants  seem  to  indicate  greater 
intensity  of  motor  feeling  than  is  found  in  adults.  A 
child's  extreme  restlessness  is  due  to  a  high  feeling  of 
potential  or  readiness  of  discharge  ;  and  fatigue  is  ac- 
companied by  a  correspondingly  complete  collapse  of 
muscular  movements.  This  follows  from  the  mobility 
of  the  infant's  cerebral  elements  before  they  are  pressed 
into  definite  connections  and  systems  which  give  them 
greater  inertia,  on  the  one  hand,  and  greater  general 
capacities  for  continued  expenditure  on  the  other. 

Upon  this  superfluity  of  motor  energy  is  built  up 
the  so-called  play -instinct,  which  is  not  definite  enough 
in  its  channels  to  be  classed  properly  as  an  instinct. 
The  energy  of  the  muscles  is  brought  under  voluntary 
control  to  gratify  other  senses  than  the  muscular  sense 
itself.  Educationally,  play  is  imj)ortant,  as  tending  to 
give  the  child  mobility  of  movement,  and  a  sense  of 
arrangement,  form,  and  complex  situation :  it  is  also  a 
valuable  aid  to  the  growth  of  the  inventive  and  con- 
structive faculty. 

§  2.  Impulse  and  Instinct. 

In  the  foregoing  section,  the  stimuli  to  the  reactive 
consciousness  have  been  seen  to  come  from  within  or 
without  the  organism.  As  originating  mainly  within, 
they  may  be  called  in  general  impulsive,  and  as  originat- 
ing mainly  without,  instinctive.  With  such  an  inexact 
distinction  for  the  present,  the  more  definite  inquiry  into 
impulse  and  instinct  may  be  begun. 

Impulse.  By  an  impulsive  character  we  understand 
one  in  which  activity  predominates ;  but  activity  of  a 
somewhat  capricious  kind.  We  contrast  a  creature  of 
impulse  with  a  creature  of  reason.  And  this  means 
more  than  that  the  impulsive  individual  can  give  no 
adequate  reason  for  his  outbursts  :  it  means  also  that 


IMPULSE.  305 

no  one  else  can.  Impulses  are  essentially  unreasonable 
to  tlie  onlooker.  They  are  capricious  in  tlie  sense  that 
they  are,  to  a  degree,  idiosyncratic. 

In  this  case,  as  in  so  many  others,  the  result  of  close 
analysis  is  only  a  confirmation  of  our  ordinary  defini- 
tion. Looked  at  from  the  side  of  phj'siology,  sen- 
sory and  motor  processes  are  such  only  as  they  are 
correlative  and  antithetic  to  each  other.  The  physio- 
logical unit  is  an  arc,  a  reaction.  Psychologically,  we 
find  a  similar  state  of  things.  At  the  beginning,  as  far 
as  investigation  can  discover,  there  is  an  element  of 
motor  feeling — of  going  out,  as  well  as  of  taking  in. 
And  this  "  going-out "  element  gets  to  itself,  wherever 
we  find  consciousness,  a  kind  of  personality  or  idiosyn- 
crasy, seen  in  its  selective  reactions,  and  in  the  kind  of 
character  which  it  builds  up.  The  ribs,  so  to  speak,  of 
consciousness  go  in  pairs,  just  as  the  sensor  and  motor 
nerves  serve  as  rib-pairs  in  the  nervous  system :  and 
taken  together  as  pairs,  they  constitute,  on  our  last 
analysis,  the  foundation  of  all  conscious  life.  In  deal- 
ing with  sensibility,  we  are  dealing  with  one  side  of  this 
pair.  What  sensibility  is,  is  an  inscrutable  mystery  :  it 
is  an  ultimate  psychological  fact.  And  the  same  is  true 
of  impulse  :  it  is  the  other  element  in  the  fundamental 
pair. 

Yet,  in  the  way  of  description,  we  may  make  the 
following  observations  about  impulse,  in  the  light  of 
what  we  know  of  phj^siology  and  of  general  conscious- 
ness. 

1.  Impvlse  belongs  to  tJie  reactive  consciousness  :  it  does 
not  involve  deliberation  and  will.  A  deliberative  char- 
acter is  a  man  who  controls  his  impulses,  that  is,  one 
who  brings  his  will  to  bear  effectually  upon  his  impulses. 
On  the  other  hand,  very  strong  and  varied  impulses  tend 
to  overpower  and  paralyze  the  will.  Impulse  should 
therefore  find  its  general  condition  in  the  physiology 


306  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

and  ps3'cbology  of  the  involuntary  life.     It  follows  that 
the  end  of  impulse  is  not  pictured  in  consciousness. 

2.  Impulses  are  never  quite  beyond  control  in  normal  cir- 
cumstances. They  are  sufficiently  internal  and  unreflex 
to  be  subject  to  voluntary  negation.  Yet  their  influence 
upon  the  volitional  life  may  be  very  great,  as  appears 
later  in  the  consideration  of  them  as  motives  to  action. 
In  cases  of  long  indulgence  or  weak  resolution,  their  sub- 
jugation can  only  be  indirectly  accomplished ;  that  is, 
by  the  active  pursuit  of  other  lines  of  activity,  by  which 
the  force  of  the  unprofitable  impulse  is  drained  off  into 
adjacent  channels. 

3.  The  idiosyncratic  character  of  impulse  inust  he  due 
largely  to  constitutional  tenderwies  of  individuals  derivedfrom 
inheritance  or  from  peculiar  coiuditions  of  life.  The  effects 
of  inheritance  in  this  particular  are  very  marked.  Noth- 
ing is  so  evidentl}^  inherited  as  emotional  temperament. 
This  is  what  vre  would  expect  from  the  law  of  nervous 
heredity,  as  already  stated  above.  And  in  the  individual 
life,  the  growth  and  decay  of  impulse  is  also  easily 
observed.  Discouraging  circumstances  or  continued  ill- 
fortune  may  reduce  a  man  of  hopeful  impulses  to  a 
prevailing  pessimism  and  lack  of  interest.  This  char- 
acteristic individuality  of  impulse  prevents  its  division 
into  classes,  and  makes  it  impossible  to  formulate  for 
single  impulsive  reactions  any  exact  laws  of  stimula- 
tion. 

4.  Impulse  is,  therefore,  internally  stimulated  :  and  can- 
not generally  he  analyzed  into  definite  reflex  elements.  This  is 
true  on  both  the  physiological  and  the  psychological  side. 
A  physiological  impulse  cannot  be  traced  directly  and 
uniformly  to  a  particular  stimulus :  it  seems  to  be  rather 
the  outcome  of  what  is  peculiar  to  the  central  process, 
and  to  result  from  the  growth  of  the  system.  And,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  cannot  trace  impulses  in  conscious- 
ness to  uniform  psychological  antecedents.     They  seem 


IMPULSE.  307 

to  represent  the  state  of  consciousness  as  a  wliole,  aparfc 
from  tlie  theoretical  worth  of  particular  images.  Im- 
pulses of  fear  in  nervous  persons  are,  and  persist  in 
being,  quite  independent  of  argument  and  persuasion. 
Our  reasoned  conclusions  frequently  have  to  fight  their 
way  through  many  opposing  impulsive  tendencies. 

Yet  it  is  generally  through  the  presence  of  some  defi- 
nite object  or  image  that  impulses  are  clearly  manifested. 
"U'hat  may  have  been  a  vague  feeling  of  unrest  or  dis- 
quiet turns  into  an  impulsive  motor  reaction  whenever  it 
finds  its  appropriate  object,  as  Jessen  remarks.' 

Definition  of  Sensuous  Impulse.  Accordingly,  we 
may  define  sensuous  impulse  psychologically  as  the 
original  tendency  of  consciousness  to  express  itself  in  motor 
terms,  as  far  as  this  tendency  exists  apart  from  particular 
stimulations  of  sense. 

Kinds  of  Sensuous  Impulse."  Confining  ourselves  for 
the  present  to  the  sensuous  side  of  impulse,  we  find  that 
such  tendencies  are  either  positive  or  negative — toivard 
or  away  from  a  present  stimulation.  The  impulses 
following  pain  are  away  from  the  cause  of  pain,  those 
arising  from  pleasure  toward  the  source  of  pleasure. 
They  do  not  involve,  however,  definite  purpose,  or  the 
adoption  of  conscious  ends.  The  purposive  character 
which  they  have  is  a  case,  as  far  as  psychology  goes, 
of  original  adaptation. 

Farther,  such  impulses  are  either  furthering  or  inhibi- 
tory, respectively,  of  motor  reaction.  As  has  been  seen, 
the  efi'ect  of  moderate  pain  is,  generally,  qxiieting  or  in- 
hibitory. Yet  an  important  class  of  physical  pains  induce 
definite  and  violent  motor  agitation  :  these  are  the  dis- 
comforts arising  from  physical  lack  or  unsatisfied  appetite. 

'  Psychologie,  pp.  346,  847. 

■'  Schneider's  Hensationstrieb,  see  his  Tliierische  Wille. 


308  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

All  the  animal  appetites  are  native  and  their  appropriate 
motor  ajjparatus  comes  into  impulsive  activity.  The 
impulses  which  sj^ring  from  pleasurable  states  are  uni- 
formly furthering. 

Instinct.  The  general  word  impulse  was  given  to  the 
more  comj)lex  motor  tendencies  as  far  as  they  are  inter- 
nally initiated  :  similarly,  complex  reactions  which  are 
stimulated  from  the  environment  are  called  Instincts.  The 
division  between  the  two  classes  is  thus  a  broad  line  of 
demarcation,  subject  to  exceptions  and  anomalous  cases 
on  both  sides.  From  the  standpoint  of  common  obser- 
vation, two  great  characters  seem  to  attach  to  instinct ; 
first  they  are  considered  a  matter  of  the  original  endow- 
ment of  an  organism,  and  further  they  are  thought  to 
exhibit  the  most  remarkable  evidence  in  nature  of  the 
adaptation  of  organisms  to  their  living  medium. 

Assuming  in  advance  that  instinct  is  a  complex  motor 
phenomenon  stimulated  from  without,  empirical  observa- 
tion enables  us  to  make  the  following  remarks  in  the 
way  of  further  description. 

1.  Like  impulse,  instinct  belongs  to  the  reactive  conscious- 
ness  and  is  original.    This  is  now  sufficiently  understood. 

2.  Ordinaril}^,  instinct  is  not  under  voluntary  control. 
Here  the  case  differs  from  the  phenomenon  of  impulse. 

3.  Instinx^ts  are  as  a  rule  definite  and  uniform :  they  lack 
the  idiosyncratic  and  individual  variations  of  impulse. 

4.  Instincts  are  correlated  ivitJi  definite  stimulation,  to 
which  they  afford  refiex  reaction. 

In  saying  that  instincts  are  reflex,  we  bring  to  mind 
all  the  characteristics  of  such  reactions :  their  mechani- 
cal nature,  as  fixed  types  of  nervous  process,  their  irre- 
sistibleness  as  phenomena  of  consciousness,  their  par- 
ticular forms,  as  belonging  to  distinct  animal  species. 
They  represent  the  consolidated  nervous  structure  which 
is  transmitted  by  inheritance,  and  the  low  form  of  con- 


INSTI^^CT.  309 

sciousness  which  has  not  character  enough  to  be  impul- 
sive. 

In  saying  that  the}'  are  reflex,  it  is  further  meant 
that  instincts  do  not  carry  consciousness  of  the  effects 
-svhich  they  work.  The  hen,  when  she  first  "  sits  "  on 
her  nest,  has  no  picture  of  her  future  brood,  and  no 
purpose  to  hatch  her  dozen  eggs.  In  saying  she  has 
an  instinct  to  "  sit,"  we  mean  that  when  her  organic  con- 
dition (warmtli,  etc.)  is  so  adjusted  to  the  environment 
(nest,  eggs,  etc.)  that  hatching  will  ensue,  she  sits  by  a 
necessity  of  her  reflex  nervous  organism.  So  we  cannot 
say  that  migrating  birds  have  a  picture  of  the  country  to 
which  they  fly  for  the  first  time,  or  an  anticipation  of  the 
congenial  warmth  of  a  southern  clime  :  all  we  can  say 
is  that,  atmospheric  and  other  conditions  acting  as 
stimuli,  the  bird's  migrator}^  instinct  shows  itself  as  an 
appropriate  motor  reaction. 

Complexity  of  Instinct.'  But  the  simple  concept  of 
reflex  reaction  needs  some  modification  in  view  of  the 
marvellous  complexity  of  observed  instincts.  If  the 
purposive  adaptations  of  the  organism  were  limited  to  a 
single  reflex  arc,  i.e.,  to  a  sense-stimulation  and  a  mus- 
cular movement  in  reaction,  the  life  of  the  animal  world 
would  be  cut  off  at  a  low  level  of  development.  The 
adaptation  to  its  environment,  on  the  part  of  the  nervous 
system,  must  gain  this  complexity  in  two  ways  :  first,  by  a 
coordination  of  muscular  elements  in  a  single  group  for 
a  common  end — what  we  may  call  a  coexisting  complexity 
— or,  second,  a  union  of  successive  motor  reactions  in  a 
dependent  series  for  a  common  end — what  we  ma}^  call  a 
serial  complexity.  Both  of  these  are  realized  in  animal 
instinct.  The  bird's  nest-building  involves  both  the 
simultaneous  performance  of  many  muscular  reactions 

'  On  holli  the.  comploxity  and  the  reflex  nature  of  instinct,  see 
Spencer,  Psycholo[/y,  %  194. 


•no  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 


o 


and  the  long  succession  of  movements  in  fliglit,  etc.,  from 
(lay  to  clay,  wliicli  in  voluntary  life  we  call  the  employ- 
ment of  means  to  end. 

Apart  from  the  original  fact  of  adaptation,  this^  serial 
complexity,  extending,  as  it  often  does,  over  great  periods  of 
the  creature's  life,  is  the  most  extraordinary  aspect  of  animal 
instinct.  The  entire  life  of  some  species  of  birds  is  a  round 
of  successive  instinctive  adaptations  to  atmospheric  and 
temperature  conditions.  And  tlie  complexity  is  often  a  re- 
markable simulation,  to  put  it  mildly,  of  conscious  ration- 
ality. AVitness  the  social  and  political  life  of  ants  and  bees. 
How  it  is  to  be  explained  biologically,  it  is  not  ours  to  inquire; 
psychologically,  there  is  nothing  to  explain.  An  instinct  in 
consciousness^ is  a  blind  outward  tendency  in  response  to 
sense-stimulation.  To  put  anything  more  into  it  would  be 
to  call  unwarrantably  upon  a  "foreign  science  for  more  data, 
or  on  philosophy  for  wider  interpretation. 

As  Romanes^  makes  clear,  the  purely  reflex  theory  of  in- 
stinct, as  held  by  Mr.  Spencer,  overlooks  the  part  played  by 
purposive  consciousness  and  intelligence  in  the  formation  of 
instinct;  and  in  this  he  is  supported  by  the  pronounced  evolu- 
tionist Schneider,*  who  holds  that  there  is  always  a  conscious 
state  through  which  the  instinctive  reflex  works.  There  is 
undoubtedly  a  class  of  phenomena  here  which  neither  the  hy- 
pothesis of  "nervous  reflexes"  nor  that  of  "lapsed  intelligence" 
is  sufficient  alone  to  explain  :  phenomena  of  the  adaptation 
of  the  nervous  system  to  new  reactions  through  consciousness 
which  is  yet  not  will.  From  study  of  the  child  mind  the 
writer  has  elsewhere  endeavored  ^  to  justify  the  use  of  the 
word  sug[/e-sii'()>i  exclusively  for  this  class  of  facts  :  the  word 
in  this  usage  meaning  the  modification  of  a  reflex  reaction 
through  the  conscious  state  which  links  together  its  sensor 
and  motor  branches.  Such  a  conception  unifies  the  two  ways 
in  which  we  may  suppose  instinct  to  Iiave  arisen  :  namely, 
first,  by  a  modification  of  nervous  reflexes  through  suggestion 
(what  the  writer  calls  "physiological  "  and  '•  imitative"  sug- 
gestion), and  second,  tlie  lapsing  of  intelligent  voluntary 
reactions  into  secondary-automatic,  and  finally  into  suggest- 
ive reactions  (•'' sensori- or  ideo-motor  suggestion").     On  the 


'  Mental  Evolution  in  Animals,  p.  266  ff. 
'  Ber  Thierixche  Wille,  chap.  iii. 
^  Above,  §  1  of  the  present  chapter. 


INSTn^CT.  311 

organic  side,  these  two  laws  of  the  rise  of  instinct  represent 
"upward"  and  ^'downward"  growth,  respectively,  of  the 
nervous  system.' 

Definition  of  Animal  Instinct.  From  the  point  of 
view  of  consciousness,  instincts  are  original  tendencies 
of  consciousness  to  express  itself  in  motor  terms  in  response 
to  defnite  but  genercdly  complex  stimidations  of  sense ;  i.e., 
they  are  inherited  motor  intuitions. 

Both  this  definition  and  that  of  impulse  must  he  held 
subject  to  the  artificial  precision  which  exact  statement  un- 
avoidably entails.  In  consciousness  the  distinction  between 
them  is  important  for  its  bearings  in  the  voluntary  life  :  for 
it  may  be  held  that  impulse  is  ethically  available,  while 
instinct  is  not.  On  the  physiological  side,  the  distinction 
seems  to  be  only  a  relative  one. 

Yet  even  from  the  side  of  consciousness,  the  word  instinct 
is  often  used  to  cover  impulse,  especially  the  adjective  instiiic- 
tive,  as  synonymous  with  the  word  origiixd.  Prof.  James 
adopts  this  usage,  and  it  leads  him  to  an  exaggeration  of  the 
reflex  side  of  impulse,  at  the  same  time  that  he  tones  down 
the  meaning  of  reflex  by  a  correspondingly  strong  statement 
of  the  variability  of  instinct  proper.  Preyer's  view,  with  which 
the  above  definitions  are  in  substantial  accord,  is  in  better 
harmony  both  with  the  psychology  of  impulse  and  with  the 
physiology  of  instinct. 

'  Lewes  and  Schneider  {Thier.  WiUe,  p.  188)  advocate  the  view  that 
instinct  arises  exchisively  from  "  hipsed  intelligence."  Konianos,  fol- 
lowing Darwin,  recognizes  both  the  principles  of  the  text ;  tiie  former, 
under  the  phrase  '"  law  of  natural  selection,"  being  called  by  him 
the  "  primary,"  and  that  of  lapsed  intelligence  the  "  secondary,"  prin- 
ciple of  the  origin  of  instinct.  Tlis  is  probably  tlie  most  ade(pmte 
treatment  of  the  question  yet  written.  Mental  involution  in  AniJnaU, 
chaps,  xi-xviii.  I  am  unable,  however,  to  agree  with  him  in  drawing  ii 
sharp  line  between  reflex  and  instinctive  action  on  the  basis  of  diller- 
ences  in  the  "  mental  elements"  involved  ;  i.e.,  he  holds  that  rcHcx 
action  involves  sensation  onl}^  while  instinct  involves  perct'iition,  ibid., 
p.  160.  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  clear  that  eacli  maj' involve  either. 
It  is  difficult  to  assign,  for  example,  any  perception  to  tlie  migrating 
instinct,  or  to  confine  such  u  reflex  as  tlie  cli)sing  of  the  c^'cs  before  a 
foreign  body  to  sensation.  On  the  origin  and  development  of  particular 
human  instincts,  see  Preyer,  Mind  of  the  Child,  i.  chap,  xi  (trans.). 


312  STIMULI  TO  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

Variability  of  Instinct.'  The  experience  theory  of  in- 
stinct is  further  strengthened  by  the  fact  of  variability, 
possible  modification,  or  entire  loss  of  an  instinct  by 
reason  of  changes  in  the  stimulating  conditions.  Eecent 
observations  have  established  this  point  beyond  ques- 
tion. The  child  loses  the  power  of  sucking  after  he  has 
been  weaned  ;  and  if  he  relearn  it,  it  must  be  by  a 
gradual  process.  Birds  in  confinement  lose  the  nest- 
building  instinct.  Bees  will  so  modify  their  hive  struc- 
ture as  to  overcome  new  and  quite  artificial  obstacles, 
while  still  retaining  the  architectural  principle  essen- 
tial to  economy  of  material.  We  accordingly  reach  a 
broad  class  of  phenomena  which  seem  to  lie  on  the 
border-line  between  impulse  and  instinct,  as  now  defined, 
and  which  tend  to  bring  unity  into  this  phase  of  con- 
scious life.  The  facts  may  be  gathered  under  the  fol- 
lowing points. 

1.  Decay  of  Instinct  from  Disuse :  a  principle  which 
explains  itself.  Physiologically  it  means  the  encroach- 
ment of  nervous  combinations  which  are  used  upon 
the  material  or  connections  of  such  unused  apparatus : 
the  result  being  a  readjustment  of  elements  in  a  way 
which  destroys  the  former  instinctive  reaction. 

2.  Modificatioyi  of  Instinct  from  Imperfect  Adjustment. 
This  means  the  reversion  of  reflex  coordinations  to  a  less 
complex  type.  The  bird  that  has  lost  the  nest-building 
instinct  may  still  retain  the  egg-laying  and  mating 
instincts,  although  in  a  wild  state  it  is  difiicult  to  draw 
any  line  of  division  between  them.  The  adaptation  of 
the  reaction  to  that  degree  and  kind  of  stimulus  actually 
present  is  wonderful,  but  still  a  fact.  It  is  probable 
that  this  modification  of  instinct  is  due  in  part  to  the 
influence  of  memories  of  earlier  experiences,  the  present 
elements  of  stimulation  working  by  help  of  reinforce- 


'  Cf.  Romanes,  loc.  cit.,  pp.  167-203. 


AFFECTS.  313 

ment  from  tlieir  own  memories.  In  this  way  the  elements 
essential  for  a  present  reaction  are  emphasized.  Imita- 
tive suggestions  tend,  in  the  same  way,  to  modify  in- 
stincts. Voluntary  selection,  also,  breaks  up  instincts, 
until  in  many  cases  only  the  impulses  remain,  so  to 
speak,  instinctive.' 

3.  Natural  Exhaustion  of  Instincts.  Many  instinctive 
reactions  naturally  spend  themselves  and  die  away.  Thus 
the  infant's  sucking  instinct,  the  gregarious  instinct  in 
some,  the  bashful  instinct  in  others.  In  many  cases 
the  instinct  of  modesty  seems  to  disappear  altogether  as 
life  advances.  So  the  fires  of  physical  enjoyment  and 
the  instinctive  enthusiasms  of  youth  fade  and  perish 
together.  Such  instincts  represent  phases  merely  in 
the  life-history  of  the  physical  and  mental  organism. 

A  detailed  enumeration  of  animal  impulses  and  instincts 
is  required  for  fulness  of  descriptive  treatment,  but  it  has 
none  but  illustrative  interest.  Prayer'  and  Schneider'  have 
endeavored  such  a  classification  of  original  reactions,  and 
James'  follows  them.  We  may  dispense  with  such  a  Hst  ; 
only  remembering  that  in  impulse  we  have  a  phenomenon  a& 
original,  as  far  as  psychological  analysis  goes,  as  sensation, 
and  that  impulses,  like  sensations,  seem  to  be  qualitatively 
distinct,  while  still  one  in  their  nature  as  impulse. 

§  3.  Affective  Nature  of  all  Stimuli  to  Movement. 

Affects.  In  the  foregoing  notice  of  different  classes 
of  stimuli,  the  fact  has  been  assumed  that  they  are  ail 
phenomena  of  feeling.  We  feel  the  force,  the  motor 
worth,  of  a  suggestion,  a  pain,  an  impulse.  An  idea 
simply  as  an  idea — if  such  could  be  realized — might 
not  react  in  movement;  but  the  simple  presence  of  an 


'  Cf.  Fortlagc,  PitychilofjiHche  Vortrage,  p.  229  f. 
«  The  Senses  and  the  Will.  \r,ui  ii. 
^  I)er  Menschliche  Wille,  Thcil  II. 
*Loc.  cii.,  II.  403-441. 


314  STIMULI  TO  mrOLUFTART  MOVEMENT. 

idea  in  consciousness  is  itself  a  feeling,  and  only  in  as 
far  as  it  affects  us  does  it  move  us.' 

We  may  accordingly  apply  the  term  affects  to  all 
stimuli  to  involuntary  movement.  When  I  am  affected, 
I  am  moved  through  m.j  own  inner  state  of  sensibility. 
And  such  affects  also  figure,  as  shall  appear,  in  the 
voluntary  consciousness  as  well ;  but  there  they  stand 
in  contrast  with  another  great  class  of  stimulations, 
which  together  with  them  constitute  motives.  Affects, 
therefore,  are  the  feeling  antecedents  of  involuntary 
movements ;  as  motives,  including  affects,  are  the  inner 
antecedents  of  acts  of  will. 

This  use  of  the  word  affect  in  a  peculiar  sense  seems  jus- 
tified by  the  meaning  given  to  it,  even  from  a  conservative 
view  of  the  right  to  assign  new  meanings.  The  phrase 
"  sensuous  impulse,"  however  harmless  intrinsically,  has 
become  a  snare  and  reproach  to  the  new  idealist.  Green's 
limitation  of  motive  to  rational  end  is  arbitrary  and  unwise. 
Motive  means  anything  that  appeals  to  the  will;  not  pictured 
ends  alone,  but  often  the  vaguest  analogies  of  feeling:  and  in 
this  category  are  included,  not  impulses  alone,  but  all  the 
various  stimulations  mentioned  above.  The  role  of  the  affect, 
at  any  rate,  is  sufficiently  great  in  the  sequel,  whatever  may 
be  said  about  its  right  to  be  baptized  with  a  name. 

Division  of  Affects.  From  the  above  description  of 
motor  stimuli  we  may  conclude  that  involuntary  move- 
ment, when  not  spontaneous  nor  simply  reflex,  results 
from  one  or  more  of  the  causes  in  the  following  table  : 

'  Pleasure  and  pain. 

Suggestion. 

Impulse. 
-  Instinct. 

Speculative  analysis  may  reduce  instinct  to  impulse  and 
suggestion :  impulse  may  be  expressed  in  terms  of  pleasure- 
pain  and  suggestion.     These  two,  however,  pleasure-pain  and 

'  On  the    affective    nature    of    impulse,   see    Lotze,   Microcosmus, 
p.  255. 


Stimuli. 


AFFECTS.  315 

suggestion,  remain  outstanding,  both  in  psychology  and  in 
etiiics.  Under  pleasure  and  pain,  also,  must  be  understood 
all  states  of  feeling  considered  as  pure  feeling — such  as  physi- 
cal and  emotional  excitement,  passion,  etc.,  the  consequences 
of  winch  become  more  apparent  in  the  next  chapter. 

On  suggestion  and  imj^nlse.  cousult,  in  general:  Perez,  V Educa- 
tion des  le  Berceau,  part  iv.  chap.  5;  Beauiiis,  /Sensations  Internes, 
chaps,  ii-vi;  Baldwin,  Science,  vol.  xvii  (1891),  pp.  113  ff. ;  Wundt, 
Phys.  Fsych.,  3d  ed.,  ii.  pp.  404  ff.;  Rabier,  I'sychologie,  chap. 
XXXVI ;  Martineau,  Types  of  Ethical  Theory,  n.  bk.  i.  chaps.  5-7; 
Schneider,  Thler.  Wille,  iv  and  v,  and  Mensdi.  Viille,  chap,  xu; 
Bain,  Emotions  and  V/ill,  part  ii.  cliap.  1  ;  Drbal,  Lehrhuch, 
§^129-34;  Gamier,  Traite,  hk.  iv .  chaps.  1-4;  Wundt,  Oemuths- 
beivegungen,  Philos.  JStndien,  vi,  Heft  3;  Prey  or,  Mind  of  the  Child, 
I.  pp.  157-215;  Volkmann,  Lehrhuch,  i.  pp.  321  f. ;  Lotze,  J/«croco.vv/m.9, 
pp.  254  f. ;  Radestock.  Hahit  and  its  Importance  in  Education ; 
Guyau,  Education  and  Heredity. 

On  hypnotic  suggestion:  James,  loc.  cit.,  n.  chap,  xxvii ;  Moll, 
Hypnotism;  Binet  arid  Fere,  Animal  Magnetism  ;  Bernheim,  Sugges- 
tive Therapeiitics  ;  numerous  articles  in  back  volumes  of  the  Uevue 
Philosophiqtce  and  the  Revue  de  VHyjmotisme. 

On  instinct :  George,  Lehrhuch  d.  Psychologic,  p.  167  ff. ;  Bastian, 
The  Brain  as  an  Organ  of  Mind,  chap,  xiv  ;  Fortlage,  Psychol.  Vor- 
trage,  vi ;  Lewes,  Prohlems  of  Life  and  Mind,  3d  Series,  Pi-ob.  III. 
chap.  1  ;  Preyer,  Mind  of  the  Child  (trans.),  i.  chap,  xi ;  James, 
loc.  cit.,  n.  chap,  xxiv;  Volkmann,  Lehrhuch,  §146;  Romanes,  Ment. 
Evol.  in  Animals,  chaps,  xii-xvni ;  Morgan,  Animal  Life  and  In- 
tellifjence,  chap,  xi  ;  Schneider,  Menschliche  Wille,  Theil  II,  and 
Tliierische  Wille,  III;  Spencer,  Psychology,  II.  partiv.  chap.  5;  Perez, 
First  Three  Years,  chap,  iv  ;  Bascom,  Comparative  Psychology,  pp. 
147  ff.  ;  Joly,  V Instinct. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 
Play-instinct ; 

Normal  and  hypnotic  suggestion  ; 
Mu.scular  movements  in  sleep  ; 
Infants'  movements. 


MOTOR  ASPECTS  OP   IDEAL  FEELING. 

CHAPTEE  XIV. 
STIMULI  TO  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

The  Voluntary  Motor  Consciousness.  The  general 
analysis  already  found  convenient  for  the  reactive  con- 
sciousness holds  for  the  voluntary.  We  find  that  in  all 
cases  of  intended  bodily  movement  there  is,  first,  a 
reason  why  we  will  the  reaction ;  second,  the  actual 
decision  or  act  of  will ;  and  third,  the  resulting  move- 
ment. All  the  "  reasons  why,"  taken  together,  constitute 
stimuli  to  voluntary  movememt,  and  they  may  be  considered 
first. 

Farther,  we  may  assume,  for  the  present,  that  the 
laws  of  the  stimulation  of  voluntary  muscular  movement 
are  the  first  and  most  essential  application  of  the  laws 
of  voluntary  activity  in  general.  Whatever  the  will  does, 
it  does  by  the  leverage,  so  to  speak,  of  muscles :  will 
can  only  express  itself  by  muscular  reaction.  So  what 
is  true  of  voluntary  movement  is,  in  the  main,  true  of 
volition  generally. 

§  1.  Genekal  Stimuli. 

I.  Interest  in  an  Object.  The  most  evident  character- 
istic of  intentional  action  is  that  something  is  intended, 
i.e.,  that  a  presentation  of  some  kind  is  set  before  con- 
sciousness. The  notion  of  an  end  foreseen,  which  we 
found  absent  in  instinct  and  impulse,  and  undefined  in 
ethical  feeling,  here  becomes  explicit.    Psychology  finds 

316 


EXCITEMENT.  317 

here,  in  common  pliraseologj,  one  of  its  safest  distinc- 
tions. 

Yet  it  is  easy  to  see  tliat  an  object  thus  presented  or 
apperceived  must  carry  some  interest  in  order  to  be 
pursued.  I  will  to  move  my  leg,  either  that  I  may  walk 
— my  present  interest ;  or  that  I  may  relieve  a  strain — 
also  my  present  interest.  Some  degree  of  present 
emotional  interest,  therefore,  may  be  said  to  be  the  most 
general  stimulus  to  volition.* 

As  the  young  child's  earliest  interests  are  its  crying 
physical  needs,  it  is  probable  that  voluntary  movement 
takes  its  rise  in  the  adjustment  of  spontaneous  and  reflex 
movements  to  varying  conditions,  for  the  satisfaction  of 
appetite.  As  a  fact,  we  find  the  random  movements 
of  the  infant  very  soon  taking  on  the  character  of  tenta- 
tive voluntary  explorations.  These  nascent  efforts  and 
their  reverses  gradually  give  rise  to  well-formed  beliefs 
in  points  of  objective  reality,  through  the  successful 
repetition  of  series  of  muscular  sensations.* 

Belief,  then,  confirms  interest  as  motor  stimulus.  So 
in  adult  life,  also,  interest  is  no  longer  a  sufficient  stimu- 
lus to  volition  ;  strong  belief  is  necessary  to  rouse  us  to 
action. 

II.  Emotional  Excitement.  Apart  from  the  impulses 
upon  which  emotions  are  built  up,  the  simple  fact  of  ex- 

'  .lessen  points  out  the  need  of  preliminsiry  interest  to  serve  as  a  basis 
of  permanent  desire  (Leidenschaft),  loc.  eit.,  pp.  293  and  335.  James 
interprets  the  volitional  stimulus  too  much  in  terms  of  the  present  con- 
sciousness, in  limiting  moving  interest  to  "  tliat  which  possesses  the 
attention,"  loc.  cit.,  ii.  p.  559.  The  deeper  abiding  interests  seldom 
come  into  consciousness  :  and  when  their  influence  is  greatest  they  do 
not  possess  the  attention.  The  conflicting  elements  of  present  conscious- 
ness rise  and  fall  together  with  tlie  ground-swell,  so  to  speak,  of  per- 
manent habitual  desire— the  influence  of  what  I  have  called  above 
"allects." 

«  "  Secondary  coeflicient"  of  external  reality,  above,  Cliap.  VII. 
§4. 


318  STIMULI  TO    VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

citement  stirs  the  will.  Considerations  lose  tlieir  proper 
balance  and  coordination  to  an  excited  man.  His  emo- 
tion puts  him  in  a  general  state  of  willing — principally 
physical — and  objects  presented  are  magnified  or  other- 
wise distorted.' 

An  interesting  case  of  the  motive  force  of  excitement 
is  seen  in  the  gambling  mania  in  all  its  forms,  betting, 
gaming,  horse-racing,  etc.  There  seems  to  be  pleasure 
in  the  alternating  phases  of  hope  and  fear,  with  the 
tremendous  nervous  agitation  which  it  works  up  when 
long  continued.  It  is  tinged,  also,  with  the  emotion  of 
self-interest,  but  not  strongly  enough  to  make  this  the 
sufficient  motive  consideration. 

III.  Suggestion.  The  effect  of  a  simple  sensation  as 
suggesting  an  appropriate  involuntary  reaction  has  been 
pointed  out :  the  same  influence  from  ideas  is  to  a  degree 
stimulating  to  the  will.  In  the  absence  of  other  con- 
siderations and  aims,  the  simple  presence  of  an  idea  of 
movement  appeals  with  some  strength  for  recognition. 
This  is  ideo-motor  suggestion.  Perhaps  the  best  illus- 
tration is  found  in  persistent  imitation  of  movements  by 
infants."  It  has  a  wider  influence,  however,  through 
the  associated  elements  which  cluster  around  a  sugges- 
tion. The  wider  the  range  of  association  which  a  sug- 
gested action  takes  on,  the  more  interests  it  is  likely  to 
involve,  and  the  stronger  it  becomes  as  a  moving  force. 
Suggestion  may  then  be  said  to  work  by  a  law  of  associ- 
ated interests. 

The  force  of  simple  suggestion  upon  volition  is  seen 

'  Professor  Bain  admits  this  influence  as  an  exception  to  tlie  general 
law  that  the  will  is  moved  only  by  motives  of  pleasure  and  pain.  That 
is,  he  differs  from  the  view  in  the  text  by  ruling  out  of  the  category 
"motive,"  influenres  which  do  not  work  citlier  directly  or  indirectly 
through  ideas.  Emotions  and  Will  pp.  380-81.  Mental  excitement, 
he  says,  works  simply  by  facilitating  motor  diffusion.   Ibid.,  p.  311. 

''  See  my  article  already  quoted  from,  Science,  vol.  xvii  (1891),  p.  116. 


SUGGESTION.  319 

in  tlie  many  sudden  impulses  we  have  toward  freaks  and 
unreasonable  actions,  such  as  throwing  ourselves  from 
high  places,  attacking  strangers,  returning  to  repeat 
actions  we  know  we  have  already  done,  etc.  ;  so  also  the 
attractiveness  of  the  unpleasant,  loathsome,  monstrous. 
From  these  outgoing  tendencies  which  are  only  unrea- 
sonable, suggestions  shade  up  through  many  stages  into 
fixed  ideas,  hypnotic  illusions,  permanent  delusions,  and 
more  positively  pathological  conditions  of  will.' 

IV.  Ideal  Pleasure  and  Pain.  Movements  which  have 
no  ulterior  reference,  Avhich  are  themselves  the  pre- 
sented objects  of  will,  are  largely  incited  by  present 
pleasure  or  pain.  So  also  the  attention  is  voluntarily 
withdrawn  from  painful  conditions  and  given  where  its 
concentration  is  pleasurable.  But  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances this  hedonic  incitement  is  not  itself  the  pictured 
object.  It  is  only  later,  when  consciousness  becomes 
reflective,  that  hedonic  indulgence  becomes  the  set  aim 
of  desire  and  voluntary  movement. 

Affects  as  Stimuli  to  Voluntary  Movement.  A  closer 
examination  of  the  influences  now  found  to  bear  on 
voluntary  movement  brings  out  the  fact  that  they  are 
farther  and  explicit  expressions  of  the  influences  already 
found  to  effect  involuntary  reaction.  The  general  law 
that  sense-modifications  tend  to  pass  off  in  motor  re- 
actions bears  right  up  into  the  voluntary  sphere.  Sug- 
gestion which  produces  involuntary  movement  tends  to 
produce  voluntary  :  so  of  pleasure  and  pain,  emotion, 
impulse.  The  psychology  which  separates  volition  from 
reaction  so  sharply  as  to  deny  any  influence  upon  the 
will  to  other  stimuli  than  pictured  ideas,  is  false.  The 
conditions  back  of  an  act  of  choice  are  never  limited  to 
the   alternatives   between   which    the    choice   is    made. 

'  Cf.  Ribot,  Dineases  of  Will. 


320  STIMULI  TO    VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

There  is  beneatli  it  all  a  dumb  unexpressed  mass 
of  afiects  —  organic  partially-felt  tendencies  outwards, 
which  give  coloring  to  the  whole  process.  A  decision 
made  at  night  is  reversed  in  the  morning  when  no  new 
information  has  been  received.  A  trilling  physical  acci- 
dent will  distort  vision,  arouse  emotion,  and  reverse 
decision.  This  fact,  that  our  most  abstract  acts  of  voli- 
tion are  strongly  influenced  by  subconscious  affective 
conditions,  is  only  beginning  to  have  the  recognition  it 
deserves. 

In  other  words,  the  ideal  stimuli  do  not  supersede 
the  sensuous  entirely:  both  persist,  even  in  cases  where 
both  are  subordinated  to  represented  ends.  With  all 
such  representation  in  idea,  there  is  also  a  body  of 
stimulation,  both  sensuous  and  ideal,  not  thus  repre- 
sented, which  colors  the  representations  and  modifies 
their  motive  force.' 

§  2.  Special  Stimulus  to  Volition  :  Desire. 

Apart  from  the  more  general  influences  already  de- 
scribed, we  find  at  the  basis  of  all  voluntary  movement 
the  great  fact  of  desire.  Understanding  the  term  as 
synonymous  with  wish — as  the  words  are  popularly 
ixsed— our  conception  will  grow  more  exact  as  we  pro- 
ceed. 

Impulse  as  Basis  of  Desire.  The  remarks  already 
made  about  sensuous  impulse  lead  to  an  inquiry  as  to 
the  ground  of  the  attracting  and  repelling  force  inherent 
in  certain  emotions.  Are  there  original  intellectual  im- 
pulses accompanying  and  carrying  forward  the  apper- 
ceptive processes,  as  there  are  physical  impulses  preserv- 
ing and  furthering  the  physical  life  ?  This  question  may 
be  answered  confidently  in  the  afiirmative,  as  the  follow- 
ing positions  already  justified  lead  us  to  believe. 

'  Prof.  Bain  urges  this  truth,  Emotions  and  Will,  Will,  chap.  vi. 


DESIRE.  321 

1.  The  interest  of  exploration — the  infant's  attention 
— is  an  ever-active,  restless,  chanpiiug  thing.  It  does 
not  await  a  law  of  successive  stimulation,  but  its  nature 
seems  to  consist  in  impulsive  activity,  just  as  spon- 
taneous movement  is  the  unsolicited  exhibition  of  physi- 
cal vitality. 

2.  In  the  intellectual  feelings  we  find  a  demand  for 
consistency  of  experience  and  free  function  analogous  to 
the  demand  in  sensational  experience  for  the  consistency 
which  induces  belief  in  the  permanent  external  existence 
of  the  world  :  and  one  seems  to  be  as  original  and  impul- 
sive as  the  other. 

3.  In  the  conceptual  emotions,  aesthetic  and  ethical 
impulses  seem  to  be  presupposed.  We  are  impelled 
toward  the  right  and  away  from  the  wrong — toward  the 
beautiful  and  away  from  the  ugly.  And  since  these 
emotions  are  dependent  upon  the  free  conceptual  con- 
struction of  ideals,  away  from  the  limits  set  by  experi- 
ence, the  most  reasonable  explanation  is  found  in  the 
hypothesis  of  intellectual  impulse. 

4.  The  analogy  from  the  distinction  between  sensu- 
ous and  ideal  pleasure  and  pain  supports  a  similar  dis- 
tinction between  sensuous  and  ideal  imj)ulse.  "We  found 
that  ideal  pleasure  and  pain  arise  as  soon  as  the  intel- 
lectual process  begins  to  be  explicit ;  i.e.,  all  processes 
higher  than  perception  have  ideal  tone.  So  ideal  im- 
pulse appears  at  the  same  stage  in  mental  development. 
The  imjiulses  involved  in  expressive  emotion  are  still 
sensuous :  many  of  them  are  inherited  as  nervous  co- 
ordinations. So  is  the  sympathetic  impulse,  as  far  as  it 
attaches  to  simple  presentations  of  suffering  or  joy.  It 
only  becomes  ideal  when  it  is  taken  up  into  the  con- 
ceptual process  and  becomes  the  basis  of  social,  ethical, 
or  tcsthetic  feeling,  and  then  we  find  new  outreaches  of 
impulse. 


322  STIMULI  TO    VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

The  question  of  "unity  of  composition"  here  confronts  us 
for  the  first  time  on  the  active  side  of  the  mental  life.  It 
should  be  clearly  understood  that  "composition"  will  not  be 
made  out  until  all  activity  is  reduced  to  reflex  nervous  reac- 
tion. So  if  sensuous  impulse  be  so  reduced,  the  next  step  is 
the  reduction  of  ideal  impulse  to  sensuous.  Psychologically, 
■we  encounter  the  difficulties  already  stated.  They  may  be 
overcome  if  it  can  be  shown  that  volition  is  no  more  than  the 
felt  side  of  a  compound  reflex.  And  in  that  case  a  presump- 
tion would  be  raised  from  the  active  side  against  the  cogency 
of  the  arguments  already  urged  in  opposition  to  the  "com- 
position" theory,  from  the  point  of  view  of  apperception.' 

Holding  to  original  intellectual  impulses  here,  however,  we 
do  not  exclude  any  single  philosophical  explanation  of  mental 
activity  as  a  whole.  Any  hypothesis  which  will  bind  physical 
and  mental  impulse  together,  as  exhibiting  a  common  energy, 
is  pertinent,  as  we  had  occasion  to  say  in  speaking  of  lower 
and  higher  pleasure  and  pain.  The  fact  that  physical  and 
mental  impulses  support  and  further  each  other,  as  physical 
and  mental  pleasures  and  pains  do,  seems  to  invite  some  such 
philosophical  hypothesis. 

Kinds  of  Intellectual  Impulse :  Appetence.  In  accord- 
ance with  what  is  said  above,  there  are  several  kinds  of 
intellectual  impulse  which  lie  at  the  bottom  of  the  earlier 
classification  of  the  emotions  :  logical  impulse ;  self-iva.- 
pulses,  seen  in  ambition,  vain-glory,  self-depreciation ; 
sympathetic  impulses,  seen  in  generosity,  self-denial, 
impulse  to  rescue,  bravery  for  others,  etc.;  impulses  for 
ideals,  of  truth,  the  good,  and  the  beautiful.  As  termi- 
nating on  particular  classes  of  objects,  such  impulses  are 
often  called  appetences.^ 

It  now  appears  that  the  founding  of  belief,  in  its  various 
forms,  upon  impulse  was  just.     The  kinds  of  impulse  now 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  vii.  §  4. 

*  Volkmauu  divides  desires  into  two  classes,  according  as  they  take 
their  rise  in  higher  or  lower  impulse  :  see  his  historical  note,  Lehrbuch, 
pp.  429-30.  Paulhan,  who  makes  impulses  {tendances)  the  funda- 
mentals of  mind,  divides  them  into  personal  (egoistic),  social  (sympa- 
thetic), and  ideal;  L'Activite  mentale  et  les  Elementsde  I'Espi-it,  pp.  141  f. 
The  usual  ethical  division  is  into  egoistic,  altruistic,  and  mixed. 


DESIRE.  323 

appear  to  jield  the  different  coefficients  of  reality,  i.e.,  sen- 
suous impulse,  the  sensible  coefficient;  logical  impulse,  the 
logical  coefficient;  ethical  and  esthetic  impulses,  their  re- 
spective coefficients.  The  sympathetic  and  selfish  impulses 
play  between  the  sensible  on  one  hand  and  the  ethical  on  the 
other,  for  which  we  have  found  psychological  reason  in  their 
rise  and  development. 

The  reduction  of  all  impulse  to  one,  that  of  self-conserva- 
tion or  self-preservation,  has  no  place  in  psychology.  To  say 
that  all  impulse,  or  all  pleasure,  tends  to  the  development  of 
self  or  the  race  {Vervollkommnungstrieh^)  may  be  true,  but 
it  has  no  meaning  for  the  impulsive  consciousness  itself. 
Schneiders  classification,  given  above  as  the  basis  of  his 
division  of  feelings,  serves  such  a  purpose  of  reduction  from 
the  evolution  standpoint." 

Desire  and  its  Objects.  The  impulsive  basis  of  desire, 
however,  is  not  the  whole.  Intellectual  impulse  is  a 
directed  impulse,  an  impulse  conscious  of  the  object 
of  its  satisfaction.  This  objective  reference  it  is  that 
distinguishes  desire  from  centrally-initiated  reactions 
generally.  The  distinction  is  seen  clearly  in  certain  ex- 
periences of  restless  impulsiveness  which  we  feel  when 
there  is  no  definite  object  of  desire.  Restlessness,  both 
mental  and  physical,  tends  to  pass  off  in  diffused  acci- 
dental channels.  The  shifting,  aimless,  often  destructive, 
muscular  movements  of  the  nervous  dyspeptic  find  their 
counterpart  in  similar  movements  of  his  attention  and- 
emotions.  But  when  this  outward  tendency  is  chained 
down  to  a  single  outlet  clearly  pictured  in  consciousness, 
we  have  desire. 

Intellectual  impulse  represents  the  more  permanent- 
massive  outward  tendencies  of  our  nature,  of  which  de- 
sires are  the  tangible  and  definite  expression :  just  as 
passion  stands  for  the  underlying  capacity  for  strong 
emotion.     The  qualification  "  intellectual "  is  indicative 

'  Braubach,  rsycJiologie  des  Gefiihls,  p.  28,  and  the  new  idealists  gen- 
erally. 

''  Thicrkche  Wille,  p.  48. 


324  STIMULI  TO   VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

only  of  its  reference  to  ideal  objects  as  opposed  to 
physical,  and  must  not  be  allowed  to  conceal  the  essen- 
tial affective  character  of  the  impulse  itself.' 

The  object  of  desire  is,  therefore,  that  after  which 
desire  reaches  out :  and  these  objects  are  innumerable. 
In  general,  any  presentation  whatever  that  arouses  an 
impulsive  movement  of  consciousness  becomes  by  that 
fact  the  object  of  desire. 

Rise  of  Desire.  The  first  clear  cases  of  desire  in  the 
child  express  themselves  by  movements  of  the  hands  in 
grasping  after  objects  seen.  As  soon  as  there  is  atten- 
tion, giving  a  clear  visual  presentation  of  an  object,  we 
find  impulsive  muscular  reactions  directed  toward  it,  at 
first  in  an  excessively  crude  fashion,  but  becoming 
rapidly  refined.  The  writer  found,  in  experiments  with 
his  own  child,'  that  the  vain  grasping  at  distant  objects 
which  prevailed  in  a  lessening  degree  up  to  the  sixth 
month  of  life  tended  to  disappear  in  the  two  subsequent 
months.  During  the  eighth  month,  the  child  would  not 
grasp  at  colored  objects  more  than  16  inches  distant,  her 
reaching  distance  being  10  to  12  inches.  This  training 
of  desire  is  evidently  an  association  of  muscular  (arm) 
sensations  with  visual  experiences  of  distance.  It  is, 
therefore,  probably  safe  to  say  that  desire  takes  its  rise 
in  visual  suggestion  and  develops  under  its  lead.  The 
earlier  feelings  of  lack  and  need  springing  from  appetite 
are  vague  and  organic,  and  cannot  be  called  desires : 
they  have  no  conscious  pictured  objects. 

Desire  and  its  Tone.  The  hedonic  coloring  of  desire 
is  always  a  state  of  pain,  especially  when  the  impulsive 
tendency  is  intense  or  long  restrained.     It  begins  with 

.    '  The  Germans  have  a  distinct  word  (LeMenscliaft)  to  distinguish 
these  tendencies  from  the  simple  impulse  (Trieb). 
*  See  Science,  xvi  (1890),  p.  247. 


DESIRE.  825 

a  state  of  uneasiness  or  restlessness.  The  basis  of 
desire,  like  that  of  appetite,  is  a  f  imctional  need :  this 
state  of  need  or  lack  is  in  itself  painful,  and  its  gratifi- 
cation pleasurable.  But  both  the  removal  of  the  pain 
and  the  gaining  of  the  pleasure  are  conditioned  upon 
the  presence  of  the  object  upon  which  the  function  in 
question  is  legitimately  exercised.  For  example,  in 
hunger  the  lack  in  the  nutritive  function  is  felt  as  pain ; 
the  function  is  brought  into  exercise  b}'  its  appropriate 
object,  food ;  and  the  exercise  of  the  function  is  pleas- 
urable. So  with  the  student,  the  lack  of  mental  occu- 
pancy is  painful,  the  pain  is  relieved  by  securing  an 
appropriate  subject  of  application,  and  the  function  thus 
established  gives  pleasure. 

Originally,  therefore,  the  hedonic  coloring  of  the  sat- 
isfaction of  desire  is  purely  an  accompaniment,  not  in 
any  sense  the  object  of  the  desire ;  and  this  for  several 
reasons.  First,  it  is  equally  present  in  instinct,  sensu- 
ous impulse,  and  emotion,  when  there  is  no  conscious 
object.'  As  has  already  been  seen,  the  elevation  of 
pleasure  and  pain  in  these  cases,  as  in  the  case  of  ethical 
ends,  to  the  rank  of  object  sought,  is  a  distinct  confusion 
of  objective,  or  teleological,  with  subjective  ends.  Second, 
the  stimulation  of  volition  by  suggestion,  as  pointed  out 
above,  shows  that  consciousness  may  react  directly  upon 
ideas  presented  regardless  of  hedonic  consequences. 
Third,  the  approximate  neutrality  of  actions  impelled 
by  certain  desires  and  emotions  proves  that  pleasure  is 
not  their  object.  The  desire  for  excitement,  for  example, 
grows  intense  in  circumstances  in  which  it  is  open  to 
discussion  to  the  man  himself  whether  the  actual  excite- 
ment is  pleasurable  or  painful.  Such  emotional  states 
are  not  absolutely  indifferent,  but  sometimes  pleasura- 
ble, sometimes  painful :  they  show  that  the  intensity  of 

•  Sec  Iliiffding,  Outlines,  p.  324. 


826  STIMULI  TO    VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

desire  is  altogether  out  of  proportion  to  tlie  intensity  of 
tiie  hedouic  result.'  Fourth,  the  principal  increment  of 
pleasure  or  decrement  of  pain  is  not  secured  hy  acting 
but  icMle  acting.  When  the  act  is  done,  the  pleasure 
falls  off.  It  is,  therefore,  the  accompaniment  of  func- 
tion, achievement,  not  of  possession.  Whatever  the 
object  be,  it  only  serves  a  hedonic  purpose  as  long  as  it 
remains  the  end  of  pursuit.  This  we.  found  to  be  con- 
spicuously the  case  with  ethical  desire  and  the  enjoy- 
ment of  doing  good.  Fifth,  when  the  pleasure  to  be 
enjoyed  enters  as  an  object,  it  gives  a  new  and  involved 
aspect  to  desire.^  The  two  desires  often  run  parallel, 
but  often  also  conflict.  I  can  distinguish  my  desire  for 
the  pleasure  of  giving  to  a  beggar  from  my  desire  that 
the  benefit  may  accrue  to  the  beggar,  and  find  myself 
deciding  between  them.  To  deny  the  former  is  to  deny 
myself  an  indulgence  :  to  deny  the  latter  is  to  deny  the 
beggar  a  good. 

In  order  to  maintain  that  pleasure  is  always  the  end 
of  desire,  it  would  have  to  be  shown  that  what  we  call 
the  object  has  been  so  often  the  means  of  getting  us 
pleasure,  that  we  have  come  to  take  it  for  end  without 
further  thought.^  This  would  mean  that  while  pleasure 
was  originally  the  conscious  end  of  volition,  it  has  become 
so  habitual  that  consciousness  pursues  the  means  with 
none  but  tacit  reference  to  the  real  end.  This  is  dis- 
proved directly  b}^  fact.  Observations  of  children  at  the 
period  when  volition  is  arising  show  that  the  first  stages 
of  volition  deal  most  directly  with  objects;  that  the  child 
only  learns  by  degrees  to  manipulate  objects  in  order  to 

'  Sidgwick  maintains  that  tliis  is  especially  true  of  sympathy  and 
benevolence.     Methods,  pp.  45-48. 

■■*  Noticed  by  Sidgwick,  loc.  cit.,  p.  48. 

2  So  Bain,  Emoiunis  and  Will,  pp.  4S8-39,  Sully,  Outlines,  p.  581, 
and  the  evolutionists,  i.e.,  Schneider,  who  makes  instinct  a  case  of  this 
transition  on  a  larger  scale,  Thier.  Wille,  p.  134. 


DESIRE.  327 

increase  or  lengtlien  pleasure,  i.e.,  learns  tliat  lie  can 
modify  liis  natural  reactions  and  subordinate  tliem  to 
the  j)ursuit  of  the  pleasure  which  they  have  incidentally 
afforded  him. 

The  infant's  appetites  are  at  first  directed  to  objects 
■which  satisf}':  he  drinks  and  casts  his  bottle  energetically 
from  him.  After  some  eight  or  nine  montlis,  he  begins  to 
dully  with  his  bottle,  to  stop  awliile  and  return  again,  to  con- 
tinue after  his  appetite  is  satisfied;  and  in  the  child  of  two 
years  and  older,  the  pleasure  of  eating  has  clearly  superseded 
the  simple  desire  for  food,  and  has  become  itself  an  object  of 
pursuit. 

This  passage  from  simple  desire  for  an  object  which 
satisfies  to  desire  for  the  satisfaction  itself  is,  however, 
so  universal  that  the  hedonist  has  much  evidence  in  his 
favor  if  the  adult  reflective  consciousness  alone  be 
analyzed.  It  must  be  admitted  that  personal  happiness 
is  an  insidious  and  most  powerful  motive  with  us  all. 
We  grow  to  identify  the  good  with  the  amount  of  happi- 
ness it  brings  to  us.  We  go  to  church  because  we  enjoy 
the  sermon.  We  do  not  attend  a  part}-  gathering  because 
we  find  it  pleasanter  not  to  be  too  positive  in  our  politics. 
Although  we  do  not  always  intend  it,  and  although  the 
higher  course  is  often  clear  before  us,  on  equal  standing 
as  a  motive,  yet  it  is  probable  that  we  make  no  deliberate 
decisions  whatever  in  which  our  own  happiness  has  not 
been  a  factor  of  influence. 

The  real  order  of  things  is,  therefore,  just  the  reverse  of 
what  the  hedonists  tell  us,  Insti'ad  of  beginning  by  the  pur- 
suit of  pleasure,  and  ending  by  })ursuing  what  was  earlier  the 
means  to  pleasure;  we  begin  by  pursuing  an  object,  and  end 
by  degrading  this  primary  object  to  an  artificial  position,  as 
means  to  [)leasure,  or  as  a  conipi'titor  with  })leasure  Tor  the 
dignity   of    being  pursued.'     N'olkmann''   tui'iis  the  dictum 

'  The  sul)j(^ct  is  al)ly  discussed  by  James,  loc.  cit.,  ii.  pp.  549-59:  see 
also  tli(;  references  lie  gives  on  p.  .>")8. 

''  LehrhurJi,  ii.  p.  4::i4  ;  Spiiio/a  also  said  the  same  tiling  long  before. 
Kill.  III.  9,  Scliol. 


328  STIMULI  TO    VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

nihil  appetimus,  nisi  suh  specie  honi,  by  saying  that  we  do 
not  desire  a  thing  because  it  is  good  (pleasurable),  but  it  is 
good  because  we  desire  it — a  law  which  the  political  econo- 
mist is  familiar  with  on  a  large  scale. 

CoefiB-cient  of  the  Desirable.  A  further  question  has 
reference  to  the  attribute  or  quality  of  an  image  Avhich 
makes  it  the  object  of  desire.  Why  is  it  that  there  is  an 
impulsive  tendency  to  or  from  certain  presentations? 
The  answer  requires  a  closer  analysis  of  both  the  men- 
tal and  the  physical  conditions  involved. 

On  the  mental  side,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  the 
various  coeflficients  of  belief  are  found  in  the  satisfying 
quality  of  various  mental  experiences.  In  desire  the 
demands  for  satisfaction  become  explicit,  and  the  pre- 
sented objects  come  to  have  value  and  satisfying  reality 
according  as  they  afford  lit  termini  for  reaction.  The 
reproduction  of  such  an  object  suggests  its  appropriate 
satisfactions,  but  the  representation  is  wanting  in  body, 
reality,  coefficient.  Here,  then,  is  one  attribute  of  an 
imaged  object  of  desire,  i.e.,  the  suggestion  it  gives  of 
satisfactions  ivhich  it  does  not  bring. 

It  should  be  noticed  that  this  fact  is  not  limited  to  the 
absence  of  the  sensational  coefficient,  the  absence  of  sense- 
reality:  but  extends  to  all  kinds  of  objective  representation. 
I  desire  not  only  food  and  drink,  but  wealth,  fame,  good- 
ness. The  image  I  have  of  any  one  of  these  does  not  meet 
my  demands  upon  it  as  the  corresponding  reality  would. 
Volkmann  contends'  that  desire  is  a  feeling  of  relative  ten- 
sion {wachsender  Spannungsgrad)  among  presentations,  and 
the  end  of  desire  is  a  clear  unarrested  presentation:  an  object 
is  not  the  end,  he  says,  for  then  no  desires  could  ever  be  satis- 
fied. In  reply,  it  may  be  said,  an  image  simply  is  not  the 
end,  for  then  all  desires  could  be  satisfied.  An  object  is  the 
end  in  the  sense  that  the  reality  of  the  object  is  the  end — all 
that  the  object  means  to  us  in  the  way  of  satisfactions. 

'  Lehrhucli,  ii.  pp.  397-98,  also  407.     See  his  exhaustive  note  of  his- 
torical views,  ihid.,  pp.  400-40-4. 


PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  DESIRE.  329 

Furtlier,  what  are  tliese  suggestions  ?  What  form 
do  they  take  ?  Evidently  the  form  that  all  suggestions 
take  :  motor  form.  They  tend  to  pass  off  in  the  channels 
of  action  apj)ropriate  to  the  kind  of  satisfaction  for  which 
they  stand.  Now  either  the  imaged  object  is  sufficiently 
real  in  its  connections  to  cause  motor  reactions,  in  which 
case  desire  is,  partially  at  least,  satisfied ;  or  it  is  only 
competent  to  give  what  Ward  calls  "  incipient  action," 
i.e.,  a  tendency  to  react  which  is  held  in  check  by  the 
consciousness  of  the  object's  unreality.  In  this  latter 
case,  there  is  continued  desire  and  a  second  element  is 
reached,  i.e.,  an  incipient  motor  reaction  tvliicTi  the  imaged 
object  stimulates  but  does  not  discharge. 

These  two  aspects  of  desire  are  equally  important. 
And  on  closer  view,  we  see  that  the}'  stand  in  the  case  of 
physical  desire  for  the  twofold  criteria  of  objective  reality 
with  which  we  are  now  familiar.  These  criteria  were 
seen  to  be,  first,  present  satisfying  quality  ;  and  second, 
liability  to  reproduction  at  the  terminus  of  a  voluntary 
muscular  series.  Now  desire,  as  appears  above,  arises 
when  an  image  excites  these  criteria  without  satisfying 
them,  i.e.,  suggests  satisfaction  without  giving  it,  and 
stimulates  a  muscular  series  without  providing  it  a  ter- 
minus. Or  put  as  a  single  formula,  we  may  say  that  an 
image  is  desired  when  it  suggests  satisfactions  luhich  are 
neither  immediately  present  nor  available  by  volition.^ 

Physical  Basis  of  Desire.  The  conception  of  the 
physical  process  underlying  desire  must  await  the  con- 
ception of  the  processes  which  underlie  the  perception  of 
the  different  kinds  of  realit}'.  If  the  sensational  reality 
of  an  object  reflects  itself  in  consciousness  through  a 
certain  brain-process,  then  the  idea  of  that  object  would 
rest  upon  a  process  lacking  the  peculiar  element  which 

'  On  the  intensity  and  rhythm  of  desire,  see  Volkmann,  loc.  cit.,  pp. 
413-16. 


330  STIMULI  TO    YOLUNTART  MOVEMENT. 

stood  for  reality.  The  motor  outlet  in  tlie  two  cases  is 
the  same  :  for  the  incipient  reaction  is  the  ordinary  reac- 
tion which  the  object  in  question  calls  forth,  except  that 
it  is  incipient.  Further,  the  seat  of  the  idea  communi- 
cates with  the  seat  of  the  associated  sensations  which 
constitute  the  usual  gratification,  and  these  again  with 
the  seat  of  their  legitimate  motor  reactions  now  incipi- 
ently  stimulated.  For  example,  I  desire  an  apple  :  the 
picture  in  my  book  {sp,  Fig.  17)  stimulates  the  muscu- 
lar and  glandular  movements  of 
mouth  and  tongue  {mp),  and  also 
/  ,„px       x^     arouses    incijDient    sensations   of 

taste,  smell,  pressure,  etc.,  which 
in  turn  become  suggestions  {sp') 
to  new  motor  reactions  {mp') :  but 
Fig.  ir.— Desire.  all  are  so  faint  that  the  remain- 

ing elements  of  the  "  motor  square"  {mt  and  mc)  are  not 
brought  to  fact.  Physiologicall}-,  therefore,  desire  is  the 
brewing  of  a  motor  storm  :  the  beginning  of  what  is  to 
be  when  the  discharge  has  gathered  its  full  force  in  the 
presence  of  the  real  object. 

As  would  be  expected,  motor  reaction  of  any  kind  is 
usually  a  great  relief  in  cases  of  intense  desire  and  longing. 
The  pent-up  energy  of  the  stimulated  reactions  is  drained  oft" 
into  other  channels.  That  such  activity,  liowever,  does  not 
completely  satisfy  desire  is  sufficient  proof  that  the  motor  im- 
pulse is  rather  the  means  of  securing  the  reality  which  gives 
satisfaction,  than  the  satisfaction  itself. 

Aversion.  In  strong  aversion,  the  mental  conditions 
are  somewhat  more  complex,  inasmuch  as  strongest 
aversion  is  aroused,  not  when  the  object  is  merely  jiict- 
ured,  but  when  it  is  actually  at  hand.  This  latter  form 
of  aversion  is  really  impulse,  and  is  much  more  largely 
a  matter  of  the  reactive  than  of  the  voluntary  conscious- 
ness.    As  such  it  has  been  noticed  under  impulse.'     As 

'  Above,  Chap.  XIV.  §2!  ' 


HABIT  AND  MOTIVE.  331 

accompanying  representative  states,  it  seems  to  be  es- 
sentially tlie  same  as  desire,  except  that  it  accompanies 
suggestions  of  pain  rather  than  of  pleasure,  and  its 
motor  instigation  is  to  movements  away  from  the  object 
rather  than  toward  it. 

§  3.  Voluntary  Movement  and  Habit. 

The  tendency  of  desire  to  become  fixed  and  perma- 
nent has  already  been  adverted  to.  The  influence  of 
desire  upon  will  becomes  gradually  less  vividly  con- 
scious and  more  uniform.  In  our  adult  life  a  few  great 
leading  principles  of  action  are  influential ;  our  simple 
desires  are  subordinated  to  our  life  aims,  and  tolerated 
because  they  advance  them.  Great  preferences  thus 
come  to  characterize  a  man — preferences  already  seen 
to  enter  in  giving  direction  to  the  flow  of  his  construc- 
tive thought '  and  feeling.  The  law  of  habit,  therefore, 
here  as  elsewhere,  reduces  the  vivid  to  the  faint,  the 
difficult  to  the  easy,  the  unusual  to  the  customary.  The 
content  of  the  voluntary  consciousness  falls  back  into 
the  reactive  consciousness. 

There  is,  therefore,  a  constant  play  both  upward  and 
downward.  Stimuli  to  involuntary  movement  get  taken 
up  by  volition,  and  utilized  to  aid  the  law  of  conscious 
preference  :  nature  becomes  an  instrument  in  the  hand 
of  will.  But  will,  by  using,  fixes  and  unifies  conscious 
reactions,  and  the  new  arrangements  brought  about  by 
foresight  and  effort  tend  to  become  organic  and  natural, 
and  thus  to  dispense  with  the  supervision  of  will.  AiJtects 
become  ends,  and  ends  lapse  into  afi'ects. 

What  is  lost  in  interest  and  psychological  complexity 
by  the  law  of  habit  is  more  than  gained  in  increased 
detiniteness  and  reliability.  That  which  is  once  per- 
formed only  after  a  struggle,  must  be  struggled  for  again  : 

»  "Intentions,"  above,  Chap.  IX.  §  3. 


332 


STIMULI  TO    VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 


but  every  victory  strengthens  habit.  It  is  only  when  a 
moral  conquest  entrenches  itself  in  character,  away  from 
the  turmoil  and  uncertaint}^  of  the  issue  gained  in  par- 
ticular choice,  that  it  is  altogether  a  conquest.  His 
virtue  is  safest  who  never  knows  his  virtue. 


§  4.  Motive. 

All  the  stimuli  to  voluntary  consciousness  now  dis- 
covered may  be  gathered  under  a  single  term,  i.e.,  motive, 
which  shall  denote  any  influence  ivliatever  which  tends  to 
bring  about  voluntary  action.  Motives  are  seen  to  fall 
into  two  great  classes  according  as  they  represent  pict- 
ured objects  of  pursuit,  or  the  subconscious,  organic, 
habitual,  or  purely  affective,  springs  of  action  whose 
main  influence  is  the  coloring  the}'  give  to  conscious- 
ness as  a  whole.  The  former  class  of  motives  are  en^s^ 
the  latter  affects.  No  sharp  line  can  be  drawn  between 
them  as  stimuli ;  for,  as  has  been  seen,  they  pass  con- 
stantly into  one  another.  Yet  in  consciousness  the  line 
is  both  plain  and  important.  As  will  appear  below,  it  is 
only  ends  which  are  available  as  distinct  lines  of  direc- 
tion for  volition,  in  definite  cases  of  choice. 


Motives  may  be  classified,  accordingly,  as  follows — the 
arrows  denoting  the  way  of  development  up  and  down  in  ex- 
perience. 

Motive 


Affect 


End 


I  I 

Sensuous  Ideal 


Instinct 
Impulse 
Suggestion 
Excitement 

(nervous) 
Pleasure  and  Pain 
Habit  <— >  Association  <— > 


Desire 


Impulse 
Suggestion 
Excisemen 
(emot 
Pleasui 
Interest 


;iion 

iient  \ 

notional)      >- 

le  and  Pain  ) 


Objects 

Immediate 


> 


Reflective 


MOTIVE.  333 

Martinoan's  classification  of  "springs  of  action"  under 
two  great  divisions.,  primary  and  secondary,'  corresponds 
roughly  to  this  dichotomy  of  affect  and  end.  Differences  of 
detail,  however,  appear  on  closer  examination.  In  the  table 
above,  the  attempt  is  made  to  come  close  home  to  the  psychol- 
ogy of  action,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  to  give  fixed  significa- 
tions to  the  terms  already  generally  used  without  exact 
agreement  among  authors;  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  recog- 
nize popular  usage.  The  earlier  treatment  of  ethical  feeling 
prepares  us  for  a  distinct  ethical  spring  of  action,  motive  to 
duty,  apart  from  the  coefficient  of  the  right — a  contention 
denied  by  Martineau,  but  upheld  by  Sidgwick.  If  the  recog- 
nition of  the  I'ight  is  the  sole  motive  to  its  performance,  it  is 
difficult  to  see  why  the  same  individual  varies  so  in  his 
response  to  it.  Spinoza  gave  us  long  ago,  in  his  "  intellectual 
love,"  an  affirmative  answer  to  the  question  of  the  existence 
of  a  more  special  motive  to  duty.^ 

On  desire,  consult :  Perez,  Erducation  des  le  Berceau,  part  i. 
chaps.  I  and  ii ;  Volkmann,  Lehrhuch,  §g  139-145  ;  Kant,  Anthropo- 
logie,  ^  72-84  ;  Sidgwick,  Mcthmls  of  Ethics,  bk.  I.  chap,  iv  ;  Lipps, 
Grundtliatsaclien  des  Seeletdebens,  6te  Absch. ;  Green,  Prolegomena 
to  Ethics,  bk.  n.  chap,  n  ;  James,  loc.  cit.,  ii.  pp.  549-59,  and  his 
references,  p.  558;  Bradley,  Jlind,  1888,  p.  1;  Wundt,  Phi/s.  Psych., 
3d  ed.,  n.  p.  463  if.;  Martineau,  Tt/pes  of  Ethical  Theory,  n. 
bk.  I.  chaps,  v-vii;  Beneke,  Lehrbuch,  cliap.  v;  Sully,  Outlines,  pp. 
574  ff. ;  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  part  n.  chap,  viii ;  Kadestock, 
Habit  and  its  Importance  in  Education ;  Guyau,  Education  and 
Heredity;  Forllage,  System  der  Psychologie,  §§62-67;  Setchenoff, 
Etudes  psychologiques,  chap.  i. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 

Rise,  formation,  and  control  of  habits; 

Habit  in  education; 

Relation  of  habit  to  character; 

Ethical  bearings  of  the  doctrine  of  desire. 

1  Types  of  Ethiad  TJieory,  ii.  pp.  129  ff. 

*  See  Pfleiderer,  PhilosopJiy  of  Religion,  Div.  i.  vol.  i.  pp.  55,  56. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

So  far  tlie  springs  of  voluntary  action  have  been  ex- 
plored. What  do  these  springs  lead  to?  In  other 
words,  what  is  voluntary  action?  Confining  ourselves 
as  before  to  muscular  movement,  we  find  two  great  kinds 
of  experience  attaching  to  all  movements  which  we  are 
willing  to  claim  as  our  personal  performances.  These 
we  may  call  respectively  feeling  of  effort  and  feeling 
of  consent.  We  are  willing  to  claim  any  movements  of 
our  bodies  which  we  consent  to,  or  which  we  make  an 
effort  to  bring  about.  These  two  feelings  may  be  con- 
sidered more  closely. 

§  1.  Feelings  of  Effort  and  Consent. 

What  is  meant  by  muscular  effort,  as  a  type  of  experi- 
ence, is  clear  when  we  examine  a  particular  act  of  volun- 
tary movement :  say  lifting  the  arm  to  a  definite  height 
in  front  of  the  body.  Omitting  the  elements  already 
found  present  in  reactive  or  mechanical  movement,  two 
great  cases  of  effort  present  themselves — cases  which  we 
may  call  positive  and  negative :  effort  to  do,  and  effort 
not  to  do.  In  positive  effort,  we  strive  to  bring  about 
movement :  let  us  call  this  feeling  the  fiat  of  will.  In 
negative  effort,  we  strive  to  put  an  end  to  a  movement,  to 
control  or  suppress  it :  this  we  may  call  the  neget '  of 
will.     For  example,  I  am   charged  with  not  moving  a 

*  The  word  noUtion,  used  by  Preyer,  is  a  happy  designation  for  neg- 
ative volition. 

334 


TEE  FIAT.  335 

paralyzed  arm,  and  I  reply:  "  No,  but  I  tried  to  !" — tliis  is 
the  fiat.  A  cliild  is  blamed  for  moving,  and  lie  cries : 
"  Yes,  but  I  tried  not  to  !" — this  is  the  neget. 

There  are  certain  new  factors  involved  in  a  fiat  of  will, 
factors  both  psychological  and  physiological. 

Psychological  Elements  of  the  Fiat.  1.  First,  there  is  a 
conscious  selection  of  the  course  to  be  pursued.  I  agree 
with  myself,  as  it  were,  that  my  right  hand  is  to  be  raised, 
to  be  raised  so  high,  so  high  in  front,  etc.  The  end  of 
desire  is  clearly  emphasized  and  cleared  of  all  extraneous 
uncertainties.  There  is  a  feeling  of  the  richness  of  al- 
ternative possibilities,  of  more  or  less  deliberation  upon 
them,  and  of  satisfaction  as  to  the  readiness  of  all  the 
apparatus,  as  far  as  my  selecting  activity  can  go. 

This  feeling  of  preparation  by  selection  and  exclusion, 
of  the  adoption  of  the  particular  alternative  for  reali- 
zation, is  altogether  new  in  consciousness.  There  is 
nothing  like  it  in  simple  reactive  movements.  There,  I 
do  not  know  the  real  nature  either  of  the  stimulus  or  of 
the  movement  till  the  reaction  is  an  accomplished  fact. 
Here,  I  know  what  movement  I  am  to  make  and  why  I 
make  it.  In  short,  here  is  a  clear  conscious  case  of  end 
as  already  found  in  desire  considered  as  stimulus  to  will ; 
a  sense  of  adopting,  accepting,  ratifying,  this  particular 
end  as  my  own  present  desire. 

When  the  muscles  have  not  before  been  voluntarily  used, 
there  is  a  feeling  of  sepiirateness,  aloofness,  from  tlie  bodily 
apparatus;  of  a  lutile  attempt  to  select.  Let  the  reader  try 
for  the  first  time  to  move  his  ear.  We  feel  in  this  case  tliat 
we  could,  if  we  could  onh'  find  the  right  button  to  press,  the 
right  Inlcruin  on  which  to  rest  the  lever.  There  is  a  distinct 
coiKsciousness  of  search,  located  in  the  side  of  the  head. 

2.  There  is,  second,  a  feeling  of  the  waxing  impor- 
tance of  this  end  to  me  in  my  consciousness.  It  persists 
steadily   there,    grows   large,   (jver.sliadows   every  other 


336  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

claimant.  It  is  as  if  my  cheeks  were  being  distended  by 
a  wind  from  witliin — larger  and  larger,  till  it  is  all  that  I 
can  hold  :  but  still  I  hold  it,  and  I  feel  that  I  alone  hold 
it.     No  one  helps  me  or  hinders. 

This  feeling  of  enlargement,  of  absorption  in  an  idea, 
is  found  also  in  the  reactive  consciousness.  Sometimes 
an  idea  emerges  uninvited  from  the  background  of  sensi- 
bility, and  stalks  boldly  before  the  footlights  of  con- 
sciousness, throwing  a  shadow  over  all  the  occupants  of 
the  front  rows — and  holds  me  against  my  will.  In  the 
present  case,  however,  there  is  a  coloring  of  feeling  flow- 
ing forward  from  the  end-feeling  (1,  above),  and  backward 
by  anticipation  from  the  fiat-feeling  (3,  below),  which  is 
absent  in  cases  of  involuntary  enlargement  in  conscious- 
ness. 

3.  The  feeling  of  fiat — Let  it  be  !  Let  it  go  !  I  hold 
in  no  longer.  The  time  is  come  for  action  and  I  act. 
Here  the  feeling  is  absolutely  peculiar  to  the  voluntary 
life.  It  is  the  kernel  of  felt  self-agency.  The  outburst 
of  the  reactive  consciousness  is  accompanied  by  a  help- 
less, runaw-ay -horse,  feeling  :  but  here  the  outburst  is 
felt  as  the  urging  on  of  a  steed  well  under  rein.  This 
is  the  consciousness  of  volition  proper. 

4.  A  feeling  of  control  over  the  muscles  :  of  ability  to 
stop  in  transitu,  to  withhold  the  fiat.  The  same  feeling 
extends  also  to  the  mental  flow. 

5.  A  feeling  of  antagonism  to  the  muscular  system. 
"  I  tried  to"  is  urged  and  accepted  as  sufficient  answer 
to  the  charge  "  you  did  not  act."  James  has  called  this 
element  of  consciousness  the  "dead  lift  "  of  effort,  and  it 
is  here  that  e^ort  proper  seems  to  be  somethiug  added  to 
the  volition-feeling.  The  muscles  lie  like  lifeless  w^ood 
against  the  outgoing  of  one's  force.  It  carries  with  it 
consciousness  of  difiiculty,  resistance,  volition  and  yet 
stronger  volition,  with  the  felt  expenditure  already 
characterized. 


THE  FIAT.  337 

6.  There  is  an  intensifying  and  enlarging  of  the  rela- 
tional complex  of  which  the  end  is  a  part.  By  acting 
we  hioio  more  about  the  act.  The  particular  reaction 
gets  itself  compared  with  others,  throws  light  on  the 
actor's  capacity,  precision,  strength,  and  forms  a  valua- 
ble measure  for  the  carrying  out  of  future  desires  of  a 
similar  kind. 

7.  Finally,  we  have  distinct  sensations  of  movement, 
if  the  member  move  :  an  agglomerate  of  touch,  tempera- 
ture, and  muscular  sensations.  In  normal  circumstances, 
if  there  be  no  actual  movement,  these  sensations  are  not 
felt. 

Physiological  Accompaniments  of  the  Fiat.  On  the 
physical  side  we  find,  when  voluntary  reactions  are  well 
established,  certain  significant  facts. 

1.  An  enormously  increased  complexity  in  the  muscu- 
lar apparatus  available.  This  is  in  most  striking  contrast 
to  the  simplicity  and  uniformity  of  reflex  and  impulsive 
movements.  The  latter  stimulate  particular  reactions 
which  are  repeated  in  fixed  and  comparatively  sirajDle 
muscular  arrangements.  Voluntary  movements,  on  the 
contrary,  break  up,  redispose,  and  reunite  the  elements 
of  these  reactions  in  numberless  ways. 

2.  There  is  a  direct  increase  in  energy  available  in 
the  particular  muscles  toward  which  volition  is  directed. 
Muscles  do  more  work  when  thej'  are  voluntarily  worked.' 

3.  There  is  greater  rapidity,  definiteness,  and  preci- 
sion of  reaction  here  than  in  impulsive  movements  :  and 
this  gain  is  proportionate  to  the  sharpness  with  which  the 
end  intended  is  pictured.  Repetition  tends  to  improve  a 
voluntary  reaction  in  these  respects,  since  it  tends  to  re- 
duce tlie  carrying  out  of  the  pictured  end  to  the  type  of 
a  compound  reflex ;  the  volition  only  serving  to  start  the 
flow  of  nervous  energy  outwards. 


'  Mosso;  Orcbansky,  Archiv fur  Anal.  u.  Phys.,  1889,  p.  170. 


338  VOL  UNTAR  T  MO  VEMENT. 

4.  There  is  a  sustained  equilibrium  of  the  motor  ap- 
paratus as  a  whole,  due  to  education,  and  no  longer  a 
matter  of  conscious  effort.  The  infant  must  learn  to  hold 
his  head  up  ;  and  that  the  adult  is  really  actively  en- 
gaged in  holding  his  head  up  all  the  time  is  seen  in  the 
fact  that  it  falls — he  "  nods" — when  he  grows  drowsy.  So 
the  body  is  in  a  state  of  constant  muscular  tension  called 
by  Beclard '  "static  contraction."  A  little  careful  atten- 
tion to  the  limbs  enables  one  to  detect  these  conditions 
of  tension,  and  release  them  when  they  are  not  necessary. 
One  has  never  learned  to  rest  properly  who  is  not  able  con- 
sciously to  throw  his  muscles  "  out  of  gear,"  so  to  speak, 
and  sit  or  lie  as  heavy  as  a  piece  of  wood.  It  is  aston- 
ishing how  much  strength  is  gained  by  this  absolute  re- 
pose of  the  muscles.' 

Psychological  Factors  in  the  Neget.  There  are  certain 
added  elements  of  consciousness  involved  in  an  act  of 
negative  volition. 

1.  A  sense  of  strong  clash  and  conflict,  between  a 
present  reaction  now  operating,  or  about  to  operate,  and 
the  end  which  I  desire  and  will.  It  is  more  positive  than 
the  mere  separation  felt  in  the  "  dead  weight"  feeling. 
In  this  case  I  am  actively  opposed  :  I  do  not  urge  a  lazy 
horse  on,  but  I  rein  a  fiery  horse  in.  "  I  moved,  hut  I 
tried  not  to.''     This  is  negative  efort  proper. 

2.  When  it  is  a  voluntary  reaction  which  is  negated, 

'  Revue  Philosopldque,  Oct.  1890,  p.  401. 

^  A  book  recently  written  by  Annie  Payson  Call,  Power  through 
Repose,  enlarges  upon  this  important  fact.  The  general  realization  of 
some  means  of  relieving  the  "static  contraction"  of  the  average  Amer- 
ican V70uld  be  a  public  gain.  The  writer  gains  this  rest  by  fancying 
himself  away  from  all  possible  interruptions,  as  lying  on  shipboard  on 
a  smooth  sea  :  it  is  greatly  helped  also  by  consciously  imitating  the 
appearances  of  sleep — bresith  by  slow  deep  inhalations  and  quick  exha- 
lations, etc.  Every  five  minutes  not  actively  occupied  should  be  seized 
upon  for  such  relaxation  of  the  muscles. 


THE  NEGET:  CONSENT.  339 

there  is  a  feeling  of  "  calling  one's  self  oflf,"  of  witli- 
liolding  the  nerve-energy  necessary  to  continue  the  func- 
tion. This  is  negative  volition.  If  the  function  con- 
tinue, it  is  involuntary,  and  I  oppose  it  by  "  negative 
effort." 

3.  In  many  cases  there  is  a  feeling  of  helplessness 
and  of  casting  about  for  means  to  circumvent  and  pre- 
vent the  nervous  discharge  indirectly.  This  goes  per- 
haps as  far  as  an  appeal  to  others  to  hold  the  offending 
I         limb  and  prevent  its  reaction. 

•1.  Finally,  there  are  sensations  of  movement  from  the 
muscles  and  joints  in  action. 

Physiological  Accompaniments  of  the  Neget.  The 
physical  machinery  of  negative  volition  is  :  1.  The  stim- 
,  ulation  of  the  muscles  antagonistic  to  those  which  realize 
!  the  reaction  negated.  The  injured  party  who  will  not 
bow  to  his  enemy  on  the  street  "  leans  back  for  very 
straightness  :"  when  we  determine  not  to  smile,  we  pro- 
duce a  contrary  grimace. 

2.  Experiments  show,  also,  a  direct  inhibition  of  the 
muscles  whose  reaction  is  negated.' 

Feoling  of  Consent.  The  feeling  of  consent  is  denied 
by  many  to  have  volitional  significance  :  yet  the  fact  that 
it  always  involves  an  idea  or  end  and  indicates  an  active 
attitude  toward  this  end — that  is,  an  attitude  rather  than 
mere  apprehension  or  belief — controverts  this  view.  I 
do  not  consent  to  the  fall  of  the  Niagara  River,  as  I  be- 
hold it  pouring  out  its  strength ;  but  I  do  consent  to  my 
child's  going  to  see  it.  In  the  latter  case  there  is  a  clear 
reference  to  my  will. 


I 


'  See  Orchansky's  cxtrom(;ly  interesting  experiments,  loe.  cit.  He 
finds,  in  opposition  to  Kries,  llial  tiie  release  of  tlie  iruisele  already  con- 
tracted occurs  before  the  contracting  impulse  takes  eli'oct  in  the  antftg^ 
onistic  muscle  (p.  1^6). 


340  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

There  are  two  general  types  of  consent  to  miiscular 
movement :  1.  A  simple  readiness  to  put  forth  the  fiat  of 
volition  when  it  may  become  necessary,  or  when  I  may 
be  driven  either  to  afiirm  or  deny.  It  often  represents 
the  absence  of  both^a^  and  neget,  by  reason  of  the  close 
balance  of  desire  in  the  two  directions.  It  is  closely 
akin  to  the  feeling  of  irresoluteness  and  laissez /aire.  It 
responds  to  the  vigorous  demands  upon  me  of  a  stronger 
personality,  or  acquiesces  in  a  prospective  course  which 
it  takes  no  positive  effort  to  accomplish  or  in  favor  of 
which  temptation  maybe  strong.* 

2.  In  other  cases,  consent  is  a  distinct  removal  of  the 
neget  of  will,  and  as  such  is  a  fiat,  i.e.,  "  at  last  I  con- 
sent." By  this  I  mean  that  hitherto  I  have  refused  my 
voluntary  endorsement,  have  negated ;  but  now  I  give 
my  fiat. 

We  are,  accordingly,  justified  in  saying  that  when 
consent  does  not  fall  clearly  under  either  positive  or 
negative  volition,  it  consists  in  an  attitude  of  voluntary 
reserve  or  indecision  which  is  nevertheless  a  real  condi- 
tion of  will. 

Summary  on  Muscular  Effort.  Gathering  up  the  ele- 
ments now  seen  to  be  present  in  effort,  we  find  a  distinct 
consciousness  of  opposition  between  what  we  call  self 
and  muscular  resistance.  Consciousness  is  unmistak- 
able on  this  point.  In  the  reactive  consciousness,  the 
ego-feeling  is  present,  but  it  is  of  an  ego  involved  in  the 
general  tendency  of  the  muscular  adjustments.  In  the 
voluntary,  it  is  an  ego  which  inspects  the  movement 
beforehand,  selects  and  approves,  or  withholds  itself  and 
condemns.     Whatever  the  ego  be,  and  whatever  we  may 

'  A  muscular  example  of  this  is  seen  in  the  peculiar  twitching,  wink- 
ing, etc.,  of  the  face  which  some  find  it  difficult  to  overcome  :  it  does 
uot  occur  when  not  thought  of,  but  when  actively  combated  it  occurs 
by  tacit  consent  between  the  very  efforts  to  control  it. 


EFFORT  AND  ATTENTION.  341 

decide  as  to  tlie  meaning  of  this  consciousness  of  oppo- 
sition, it  yet  exists,  and  must  be  given  the  complete 
recognition  due  to  such  a  clear  empirical  fact. 

This  distinction  between  active  and  passive  elements  in 
consciousness  seems  to  present  a  formidable  problem  to  the 
affective  theory  of  attention  as  held  by  Horwicz  and  Ribot.' 
Reflex  attention  may  well  be  a  congeries  of  passive  states:  but 
if  voluntary  attention  is,  whence  comes  the  feeling  of  effort  ? 
If,  however,  the  feeling  were  all  and  we  found  no  results  not 
ordinarily  ascribed  to  feeling-reactions,  then  their  case  might 
be  theoretically  made  out.  But  all  that  we  know  and  do  by 
volition,  and  never  know  or  do  without  it,  reinforces  the  claim 
of  effort  as  a  new  agency.  The  current  idealism  makes  the 
same  mistake  and  throws  away  one  of  its  keenest  weapons 
against  materialism — straiige  as  the  case  may  seem.  The 
idealists  (Green)  say:  "All  knowledge  is  through  conscious- 
ness, therefore  we  can  never  get  outside  of  consciousness  : 
there  are  no  differences  between  active  and  passive  states  of 
feeling."  "Exactly,"  replies  the  materialist  (Maudsley '), 
"your  feeling  of  self  is  ])assive  like  everything  else:  the  unity 
of  mind  is  the  unity  of  the  nervous  system,  and  consciousness  is 
an  epipheuomenon.'* 

Muscular  Effort  and  the  Attention.  The  first  point 
mentioned  above,  as  characterizing  voluntary  movement, 
was  the  feeling  of  preparation ;  i.e.,  the  relating,  select- 
ing, adopting  of  the  end  to  be  realized.  Now,  as  has 
been  shown,  this  selecting  of  one  of  many  presentations 
takes  place  only  in  the  attention  :  it  is  either  itself  invol- 
untary or  itself  a  fiat.  If  involuntary,  it  is  a  matter  of 
reactive  consciousness,  in  which  case  the  resulting  re- 
action in  movement  is  involuntary  also.  When  a  man 
acts  at  random,  having  no  time  for  deliberation,  or  per- 
haps no  information  to  deliberate  on — throws  a  mental 
penny,  so  to  speak,  to  guide  his  choice — his  action  is  not 
voluntary  at  all. 


•  The  Psycliology  of  Attention.   Jcsscn's  doctrine  is  an  early  and  nota- 
ble statement  of  the  affective  theory  ;  loc.  cii. 

*  Physiolofjy  of  Mind,  chap.  vii. 


342  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENT. 

In  all  voluntary  moyement,  therefore,  there  is  an 
earlier  fiat  than  the  will  to  move,  i.e.,  the  fiat  of  atten- 
tion to  the  particular  idea  of  movement."  In  general, 
the  two  forms  of  volition  may  be  clearly  distinguished 
in  consciousness.  I  may  attend  as  closely  as  I  please  to 
an  idea  of  movement,  keep  it  resolutely  before  me,  and 
yet  not  reach  a  decision  to  perform  it.  Yet  in  the  cases 
in  which  I  do  reach  such  a  decision,  I  do  so  only  by  con- 
centrating my  attention  upon  the  idea  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  others.  When  I  am  not  able  to  reach  a  decision,  it 
seems  to  be  due  to  a  defect  in  my  attention  ;  other  ideas 
share  it  with  the  muscular  idea.  Consequently,  it  is  the 
degree  of  preparation,  i.e.,  voluntary  attention,  which 
leads  to  the  expansion  of  a  presentation  till  it  so  fills 
consciousness  as  to  overflow  in  volition. 

The  entire  question  as  to  what  volition  is,  is  accord- 
ingly thrown  back  upon  an  investigation  of  the  exercise 
of  voluntary  attention.  Voluntary  movement  is  only  a 
particular  case  of  voluntary  attention.  It  is  not  true, 
therefore,  that  all  volition  is  reduced  to  a  i^lay  of  mus- 
cular impulses  which  issue  in  a  direction  representing 
their  resultant ;  unless  it  can  be  shown  that  the  voluntary 
attention  is  such  an  effect  of  the  outburst  of  a  nervous 
storm. 

In  this  position,  the  text  is  in  substantial  agreement  with 
James,"  except  that  he  uses  the  expression  "  muscular  effort" 
to  designate  the  sensational  content  of  muscular  volition, 
whicli  is  not  consistent  with  the  use  of  the  same  term  "  effort" 
to  designate  volition  itself  in  the  case  of  attention.  The 
effort  is  exactly  the  same  in  the  two  cases:  in  one  case  it  is  ex- 
ercised about  "  muscular  feelings,"  in  the  other,  about  "  intel- 

'  Hoffdiiig  is  accordiugly  wrong  in  saying  :  "  This  internal  prepara- 
tion does  not  admit  of  more  minute  description.  It  is  the  fundamental 
elemvi-nt  in  the  consciousness  of  an  intended  movement."  OuUines, 
p.  318.  On  the  contrary,  we  find  it  to  be  the  consciousness  of  an  earlier 
act  of  selective  volition. 

"^  Loc.  cit.,  11.  5t)l. 


ITS  DEVELOPMENT.  343 

lectual  feelings."  In  one  case,  tlie  object  is  a  motor  intui- 
tion, in  the  other  a  logical  relation:  the  form,  the  effort,  is 
the  same.  Hence  it  is  not  true  that  "  muscular  effort  con- 
sists of  all  those  peripheral  feelings  to  which  a  muscular  '  ex- 
ertion '  may  give  rise"  (James,  luc.  cit.,  ii.  562,  note).  It  con- 
sists of  these,  plus  voluntary  attention  (effort),  plus  the  mus- 
cular sensations  peculiar  to  voluntary  attention.  James  cites 
the  difficulty  of  nerving  one's  self  to  a  cold  bath  on  a  winter 
morning  as  a  case  of  great  voluntary  effort  and  little  muscular 
effort :  this  is  true,  for  the  reason  that  there  are  two  separate 
volitions,  one  to  take  the  bath,  the  other  to  make  the  neces- 
sary movements.  Both  are  voluntary  effort,  but  the  former  is 
harder  because  it  includes  the  latter.  To  a  paralytic,  the  case 
would  be  different:  the  movement  would  be  the  great  effort. 
The  fact  that  the  muscles  are  the  channels  of  discharge  of 
all  intense  presentations  makes  it  seem  that  all  volition  must 
be  directed  at  first  to  the  muscles.  But  observation  of  the 
infant's  first  acts  of  volition  shows  us  a  different  state  of 
things.  The  child  first  pictures  a  situation  and  strives  to 
attain  it,  imitate  it,  reproduce  it,  quite  unconscious  of  his 
muscles  or  of  their  arrangement.  But  the  concentration  of 
his  attention  upon  the  presentation  leads  to  a  muscular  dis- 
charge more  or  less  appropriate:  and  by  repetition  this  dis- 
charge is  adapted  to  the  reaction  required.  The  passage  over  to 
the  picturing  of  the  muscular  movements  themselves  is  clearly 
marked  in  his  consciousness.  When  he  first  begins  to  learn 
that  he  acts  by  muscles,  it  throws  him  into  confusion, 
and  his  efforts  lose  the  efficacy  of  their  native  adaptations. 
Tell  a  child  to  try  hard  to  proiiou)ioe  a  word  better,  and  he 
mouths  his  sounds  in  the  direst  confusion.  But  when  he  is 
guided  simply  by  the  sound,  and  wills  it,  with  no  conscious- 
ness of  his  efforts  of  speech,  his  success  is  better.  This  sim- 
ply means  that  these  early  reactions,  while  voluntary,  are  not 
voluntary  movements:  the  movements  are  provided  for  in  the 
native  pathways  of  discharge;  what  is  voluntary  is  the  inter- 
ested attention  held  upon  the  presentation  which  starts  the 
discharge. 

There  are  three  stances,  therefore,  in  the  development 
of  voluntary  movement:  1.  Vf)luntary  attention  to  a 
presentation  which,  in  turn,  stimulates  a  native  muscu- 
lar reaction  ;  2.  Voluntary  attention  to  a  presentation 
of  movement,  which  stimulates  the  movement  presented. 
This  is  the  state  of  thiuf,'s  in  all  our  endeavors  to  learn 


344  VOL  UNTAR  T  MO  VEMENT. 

mew  muscular  combinations,  making  them  our  end ;  3. 
Yoluntary  attention  to  an  end  for  which  a  muscular  re- 
action is  a  necessary  means.  This  takes  us  back  to  the 
first  state  of  things  again.  By  the  process  of  learning, 
(2,  above),  we  have  gained  new  adaptations,  and  by  repe- 
tition they  have  become  unconscious  means,  just  as  the 
native  reactions  (1,  above)  are.  So  in  writing,  for  ex- 
ample. That  is,  we  find,  the  organism  gives  us  so  much 
(1),  we  improve  upon  it  by  eifort  (2),  and,  having  patented 
our  improvements,  so  to  speak,  we  hand  them  back  to 
the  organism  again  (3). 

This  is  seen  to  be  different  from  the  account  which 
develops  ideal  volition  from  an  early  form  of  muscular 
Yolition.  Bain  makes  2,  above,  the  starting  point. 
Pleasure  must  be  associated  with  a  muscular  movement, 
and  the  muscular  movement  pursued  for  the  sake  of  the 
pleasure  ;  this,  he  says,  is  the  birth  of  volition.  To  him 
the  mere  idea  (1,  above),  with  no  associated  pleasure  or 
pain,  has  no  motive  influence  whatever.  He  is  directly 
refuted  by  observations  of  imitative  suggestion  in  child- 
hood. 

§  2.    Physiology  of  Voluntary  Movement. 

Psycho-pliysical  Conception  of  Will.  Omitting,  until 
later,  the  consideration  of  voluntary  attention,  we  have 
still  to  inquire  into  the  physical  process  of  voluntary 
movement ;  i.e.,  when  I  hold  the  idea  of  a  particular 
movement  up  before  me  and  try  to  perform  it,  what  does 
my  trying  add  physiologically  to  the  simple  reaction  in- 
volved in  the  same  movement  when  it  is  involuntary  ? 

We  here  reach  the  extreme  form  of  the  question  of 
the  validity  of  a  psycho-pliysical  conception  of  mind. 
Is  the  will  in  any  sense  a  consciousness  of  a  direct  force- 
ful interference  in  the  play  of  nervous  energies  ?  Are  we 
conscious,  in  efi'ort,  of  a  modification,  from  the  side  of 


PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  WILL.  345 

mind,  of  the  strict  sequence  of  nerve-processes  from 
periphery  inwards  back  to  periphery  outwards?  Ap- 
proaching this  question  with  as  broad  an  outlook  at  its 
conditions  as  possible,  we  may  make  certain  remarks. 

1.  The  adaptation  of  muscular  reactions  to  definite 
ends  accomplished  by  volition  is,  as  regards  the  results 
it  brings  about,  the  same  in  kind  as  the  adaptations 
brought  about  in  the  reactive  consciousness,  when  voli- 
tion is  plainly  absent.  The  answer  to  the  question 
whether  in  will  there  is  a  dynamic  spiritual  principle 
must  be  based  upon  the  interpretation  of  the  selective 
and  adaptive  function  of  consciousness  in  general. 

2.  Facts  have  been  cited  in  abundance  to  show  that 
when  consciousness  is  present,  reflex  reactions  are  broken 
up,  nervous  processes  are  abbreviated,  adjustments  are 
effected,  which  are  inconceivable  as  happening  in  a 
mechanical  system  of  actions  and  reactions.  Romanes 
makes  the  criterion  of  consciousness  in  an  organism 
"  non-inherited  adaptive  or  alternative  action,"  and  holds 
that  it  is  "  necessary  to  recognize  the  element  of  choice 
(*  uncertainty  of  adjustive  action  ')  even  though  we  give 
it  no  influence  in  the  chain  of  physical  events." 

3.  Yet  we  have  had  occasion  to  defend  a  strictly  me- 
chanical view  of  the  interaction  of  the  nervous  system 
and  its  environment,  as  far  as  the  law  of  conservation  of 
energy  is  concerned. 

There  are  onh-  two  ways  to  reconcile  these  positions, 
provided  they  are  well  taken.  We  may  hold  with  Lotze ' 
that  consciousness  is  dynamic  ;  that  it  adds  to  the  energy 
of  the  system  by  modifj'iug  muscular  reactions  through 
volition,  at  the  same  time  that,  by  its  inhibitions  and 
efforts  to  control  other  reactions,  it  suppresses  energy ; 
and  that  the  additions  and  subtractions  neutralize  each 

'  Microrosmns,  bk.  ii.  cliap.  v.  §§  5-6.     A  view  for  which  James  has 
somu  fondness,  loc.  cU.,  ii.  pp.  5T6  and  584. 


346  VOL  UNTAR  Y  MO  YEMENT. 

other  in  tlie  long-run.  This  preserves  botli  the  dynamic 
value  of  consciousness,  and  the  proper  balance  of  the 
nervous  system  in  relation  to  its  en\ironment. 

Or  we  may  hold  that  consciousness  enters  as  an  appar- 
ently new  principle  in  the  integrating  life  of  the  organ- 
ism— a  principle  which  develops  by  laws  of  its  own,  but 
which  develops  apace  with  nervous  integration  :  that 
the  reason  of  their  concomitance,  of  their  mutual  de- 
pendence, lies  hidden ;  there  are  no  analogies  in  nature 
by  which  to  explain  it.^  It  is  clearly  a  problem  of  meta- 
physics; but  the  psycho-physical  facts  involved  point  to 
some  kind  of  underlying  unity  which  has  such  a  two- 
fold expression. 

As  commonly  held,  this  alternative  takes  a  form  which 
appears  to  present  an  easy  solution  to  the  difficulty. 
Many  hold  that  while  consciousness,  will,  does  not 
increase  or  diminish  brain  energy,  yet  it  directs  it. 
Just  as  the  telegraph  operator  does  not  add  to  or  dimin- 
ish his  electric  current  by  turning  it  into  one  circuit 
rather  than  another,  so  the  spiritual  agent  guides  and 
facilitates  the  discharge  of  particular  brain  circuits. 
But  the  reduction  of  the  physical  forces  to  forms  of  mo- 
tion seems  to  raise  an  insurmountable  barrier  to  the 
advocates  of  such  an  easy  solution.  For,  while  the  tele- 
graph operator  does  not  use  electricity  to  ojDen  his  com- 
mutator, still  he  moves  to  do  it,  and  the  energy  of  the 
world  which  went  into  his  motion  is  taken  away  from 
the  amount  available  for  electricity.  He  might,  indeed, 
first  turn  his  muscular  energy  into  electricity,  and  with 
it  open  the  commutator.  So  the  influence  that  makes 
the  connection  in  the  brain  must  be  itself  a  form  of  mo- 
tion of  a  particle  in  the  brain,  and  this  means  taking  so 
much  energy  from  the  ordinary  dynamic  circuits  of  the 

'-  The  morphological  processes  of  life  in  general  present  an  apparent 
analogy;  but  if  it  be  true  that  life  always  carries  the  beginnings  of 
consciousness,  then  the  problem  in  the  two  cases  is  essentially  the  same. 


PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  WILL.  347 

brain.  Tlie  only  reply  to  this  objection  is  tlie  metaphysi- 
cal postulate  of  an  identity,  in  wiiicli  the  two  kinds  of 
energy  are  brought  under  the  notion  of  a  common  cos- 
mic principle.  Such  a  conception  is  needed  to  make  the 
directive  and  selective  function  of  v/ill,  as  defended  by 
current  spiritixalism,  available  in  any  scientific  sense. 

On  either  of  these  views,  the  relation  of  voluntary  to 
reactive  consciousness  is  clear.  In  volition,  we  are  con- 
scious of  a  form  of  mental  activity  sui  generis :  a  form 
present  in  all  consciousness,  but  now  first  explicit.  The 
"  selection"  of  passive,  the  "  attention"  of  reactive,  find 
their  fruition  in  the  "  fiat"  of  volitional,  consciousness. 
This  at  once  confirms,  and  is  supported  by,  the  similar 
doctrine  of  apperceptive  synthesis  found  implicit  m  the 
earliest  distinctions  among  sensations,  but  only  explicit 
in  coucej^tion  and  thought. 

On  the  first  of  the  two  views  suggested,  no  conception 
of  the  physical  process  of  volition  is  possible ;  since,  if 
altered  on  occasion  by  a  dynamic  reaction  of  conscious- 
ness, the  brain-process  could  not  be  called  constant. 

If  one  embraces  the  second  conception,  it  becomes 
his  task  to  conceive  the  physical  process  underlying  vo- 
lition in  such  a  way  that  the  increased  complexity  of  its 
integration  will  support  the  adaptations  which  voluntary 
acts  exhibit,  at  the  same  time  that  the  energies  of  the 
system  are  kept  inviolate.  Such  a  construction  the  writer 
does  not  care  to  attempt.  More  data  from  physiology 
must  be  awaited.  Orchansky  infers  from  the  fact  that 
the  reaction-time  for  a  positive  (fiat)  and  an  inhibitory 
(neget)  reaction  is  the  same,  that  the  nerve-courses  in- 
volved are  also  the  same.' 

Otlier  cnrroiit  altei-n;itivc  tlieorics  of  the  physioloj^ical  basis 
of  will  do  viol(;nce  to  tlie  facts  on  one  side  or  the  otiiei-.  On 
one  hand,  consciousness  is  held  to  be  an  "cpiphenomenon,"  '  a 

'  Archmfiir  Anat.  u.  Phya.,  1889,  p.  196  {Phys.  Abth.). 
*  Maudsluy. 


348  VOL  UNTAR  Y  MO  VEMENT. 

spark,  so  to  speak,  thrown  off  by  the  machinery  of  brain :  it 
illuminates  its  path,  and  dies  away,  liaving  no  influence  what- 
ever on  the  machine  which  produces  it.  Tliis  does  direct  vio- 
lence to  the  distinction  between  reflex  and  voluntary  action, 
i.e.,  to  the  efficacy  of  eifort.  One  of  tlie  most  radical  advo- 
cates of  the  biological  theory  of  miud,  Kibot,  deserts  it  at  this 
point.  "  In  relation  to  the  future  development  of  the  individ- 
ual," says  he,  "  it  [consciousness]  is  a  factor  of  the  first  order; 
...  it  facilitates  and  guides  future  reactions."' 

Theory  of  Innervation.  Any  theory  of  a  uniform  ner- 
vous basis  of  will  admits  certain  points,  i.e.,  an  efferent 
process  following  upon  a  central  process,  this  efferent 
process  stimulating  a  muscular  reaction  which  is  reported 
in  turn  to  consciousness  by  an  afferent  process.  A  fur- 
ther question  arises  as  to  the  exact  locus  in  this  series 
of  the  feeling  of  effort.  Do  we  feel  effort  when  the 
energy  of  muscular  stimulation  leaves  the  brain,  or 
when  the  incoming  process  from  the  muscles  reports  the 
actual  movement  ?  Put  technically,  are  effort-feelings 
entirely  MncestJietic,  income-feelings ;  or  do  they  involve 
also  feelings  of  innervation,^  outgo-feelings? 

Analogy  from  the  general  build  of  the  nervous  system, 
as  analyzed  above,  would  lead  us  to  look  for  an  element 
of  consciousness  from  the  outgoing  or  reacting  process  no 
less  than  from  the  incoming  or  receiving  process. 

An  adequate  justification  of  this  presumption  from  a 
physiological  point  of  view  was  first  attempted  by  Wundt, 
to  whom  the  phrase  "  innervation  feelings"  is  due.  Re- 
cent writers  of  note  have  disputed  the  point,  holding  that 
there  is  no  adequate  evidence  'of  any  such  sensations, 
apart  from  the  kinesthetic  sensations  of  movement  and 
the  traces  they  leave  behind  in  memory.  Space  does  not 
permit  an  exposition  of  this  complex  controversy,  nor 
does  the  theory  of  will  require  it.     If  we  hold  a  dynamic 

'  Diseases  of  Personality,  p.  16. 

'  See  distinction  between   "effort"  and  "resistance"   feelings    in 
Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  vii.  §  3,  p.  89. 


THEORY  OF  INNERVATION.  349 

theory  of  consciousness,  and  that  effort  is  tlie  feeling  of 
this  dynamic  activity,  it  does  not  matter  whether  the 
physical  result  is  reported  to  consciousness  before  or 
after  the  muscular  reaction.  If  we  hold  that  conscious- 
ness is  merely  an  epiphenomenon,  then  a  sensation  of 
outo^o  of  nervous  energy,  like  any  other  sensation,  would 
only  represent  a  condition  of  the  organism.  Not  only 
might  such  a  sensation  be  said,  on  the  one  hand,  to  give 
evidence  of  the  direct  effect  of  a  spiritual  impulse  of  will 
in  liberating  central  energy ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
might  be  said  to  afford  sufficient  explanation  of  effort, 
and  render  such  a  spiritual  impulse  of  will  unnecessary. 

For  this  reason,  the  widest  difference  of  opinion  prevails  on 
the  subject.  In  favor  of  innervation  sensations  we  find  Bain, 
Wundt,  Sully,  Beaunis,  Groom  Robertson  ;  against  them, 
Bastian,  James,  Mi'msterberg.  The  best  recent  discussions  are 
those  of  Bastian,'  James,^  Wundt,^  and  Beaunis."  The  present 
writer  has  found  evidence  of  sensations  arising  from  the  con- 
dition of  the  motor  centres  in  the  discovery  that  right-lianded- 
uess  develops  in  infancy  only  under  conditions  of  muscular 
effort."  This  cannot  be  due  purely  to  pliysiological  differences 
in  brain-sides  or  arms,"  for  in  that  case,  one  hand  would  be 
preferred  in  all  movements.  Pi-eyer  seems  to  be  right  in  saying 
that,  "muscular  sensations  [of  some  kind]  arc  necessary 
pioneers  for  voluntary  motor  impulses."'  It  cannot  be  due 
to  traces  left  in  memory  by  greater  efficiency,  dexterity,  etc., 
by  the  hand  preferred*;  for  at  tnis  early  age  (seventh 
month)  no  such  ditference  in  dexterity,  etc.,  was  observed. 
Besides,  greater  skill  in  one  hand  would  cause  its  use  in  easy 
movements  as  well,  especially  after  the  right  hand  had  been 

'  Brain,  x.  p.  1,  followed  by  a  symposium  on  the  subject. 

"  Loc  cit.,  II.  pp.  493-522. 

»  PhyH.  Psych.,  3d  ed.,  i.  pp.  400  ff. 

*  Les  Sensations  intnwies,  chsip.  xi. 

*  See  Science,  xvi,  1890,  pp.  247  and  802. 

•  So  explained  by  Mlinslerbeig  in  a  letter  to  the  writer.  Prof. 
James  at  first  favored  this  view  (Science,  loc.  cit.,  p.  275),  but  afterwards 
gave  it  up— also  in  a  private  letter. 

'  Mind  of  (he  C7u7(Z  (trans.),  i.  pp.  254-55. 

•  James,  reference  in  the  last  note  but  one. 


350  VOL  UNTAR  Y  MO  VEMENT. 

called  out  predominantly  in  effort ;  but  tliiswas  found  not  to 
be  the  case.  The  evident  explanation  is  that  the  child  had  a 
vague  consciousness  of  greater  motor  readiness,  outward  pres- 
sure, high  potential,  in  the  centre  which  stimulates  the  right 
arm. 

On  voluntary  movement,  consult :  James,  loe.  cit. ,  chap,  xxvi ; 
Stricke,  Das  Bewusstsein,  chap,  ix  ;  Hotfding,  Outlines,  vii.  A  ; 
Wundt,  Phys.  Psych.,  3d  ed.,  ii.  pp.  487  ff.  ;  Bertraiid,  Psychologie 
V Effort;  (development  of)  Preyer,  Mind  of  the  Child,  part  ii ; 
Schneider,  iT/ewscA.  MZZe,  Theil  IV;  Sully,  OMi!/me.s,  pp.  591  ff. ;  Ladd, 
Elements,  part  ii  chap.  x.  §  27  ;  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  part  ii. 
chaps,  ii-iii ;  Drbal,  Lehrbnch,  §§  135,136  ;  Perez,  First  Three  Years 
of  Childhood,  chap,  ii ;  Carpenter,  Ment.  Phys.,  bk.  I.  chap.  ix.  1  ; 
Morell,  Outlines  of  Psychology,  pt.  vi.  chap,  ii ;  Setchenoflf,  Etudes 
Psychologiques,  chap.  ii. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 
Innervation  sensations  ; 
Philosophical  significance  of  effort  and  resistance. 


CHAPTEK  XVI. 

VOLITION. 

Purpose.  In  the  last  chapter,  we  found  that  volun- 
tary movement  is  only  a  particular  case  of  voluntary 
attention.  The  preparation  for  movement  involves  the 
selection  of  a  particular  presentation,  and  its  accom- 
plishment is  only  a  matter  of  the  reiteration  of  this 
selection  when  the  proper  ideal  and  motor  conditions 
are  present  and  fill  consciousness.  For  example,  I 
determine  at  twelve  o'clock  to  dine  with  a  friend  at 
six.  I  have  selected  and  willed  this  act:  but  in  the 
mean  time  other  ideas — knowledge  of  the  hour,  present 
duties,  etc. — occupy  my  consciousness  with  the  intended 
act.  My  state  of  will  is  then  purpose.  "When  six  ar- 
rives, these  presentations  foreign  to  my  purpose  disap- 
pear, the  dining  act  alone  persists,  fills  my  attention, 
and  I  walk  to  the  house  of  my  friend.  My  volition  at 
six  repeats  my  volition  at  twelve,  except  that  the  two 
involve  a  somewhat  different  background  of  accompany- 
ing consciousness.'  In  both  cases,  I  give  myself  with  all 
its  immediate  consequences :  in  one  case,  these  conse- 
quences are  apparent  only  in  my  mental  life ;  in  the 
other,  they  shed  themselves  out  through  my  muscles 
into  the  physical  world.  If  I  resolve  to  break  into  a 
house,  I  am  a  burglar,  though  I  be  arrested  before  I 
move  a  muscle.  Hence,  there  is  only  one  fiat,  one  volition, 
and  that  is  to  give  mv  ;t!'. uli'ni  to  a  presentation. 


I  •■ 


A  resolve,"  says  James,  "involves  all  the  elements  of  a  motor  fiat 
except  the  word  'now.'"    Loc.  cit.,  ii.  p.  TjCI. 

851 


352  VOLITION. 


§  1.  Voluntary  Attention  as  Choice. 

Law  of  Motives.  Volition,  considered  as  an  act  of 
attention,  always  involves  some  measure  of  division  in 
consciousness — some  measure  of  confusion  due  to  unad- 
justed claims.  The  various  classes  of  claims  which  are 
to  be  adjusted  in  an  act  have  been  pointed  out.  They 
are  the  sjjrings  of  action  or  motives,  any  affective  ten- 
dencies whatever  that  represent  active  conditions  of 
consciousness.  My  w^hole  personalit}-,  as  has  been  made 
clear,  is  an  expressive  thing:  its  expressive  side  is  as 
real  and  elementary  as  its  receptive  side.  Consequently, 
at  every  moment  the  man  is  exj^ressing  himself  some- 
how, and  what  he  is  expressing  is  the  outcome  of  all  the 
elements  in  him  which  seek  expression. 

Farther,  the  whole  of  the  present  possibilities  of  the 
man  are  summed  uj)  in  these  tendencies  outward :  they 
represent  his  entire  self  at  the  moment  that  he  acts,  i.e., 
his  make-up  as  the  present  conditions  of  his  environ- 
ment are  suited  to  call  it  out.  Given  conditions  which 
favor  the  expression  of  a  number  of  his  motives  at  once, 
and  they  all  clamor  for  exclusive  recognition.  For 
example,  a  brakeman's  hand  is  freezing  to  the  iron  : 
intense  pain,  a  physical  spring  of  action,  prompts  him  to 
desert  his  brake.  But  he  quickly  calculates  the  chances 
of  collision,  or  an  open  bridge  :  an  intellectual  motive  urg- 
ing him  to  remain  faithfully  at  his  post.  And  with  this 
last  there  come  the  picturing  of  wounded  passengers, 
the  cries  of  those  in  danger :  a  new  emotional  motive, 
which  brings  with  it  a  warm  flood  of  sympathy,  leading 
to  a  quick  and  easy  decision  on  the  side  of  duty.  The 
decision  is  the  man's  decision ;  it  expresses  the  nature 
of  this  man  and  no  other ;  and  it  is  the  outgoing  of  his 
nature  in  a  line  which  the  particular  circumstances 
opened  to  him.     Accordingly,  we  may  say,  first,  that  aJl 


LAW  OF  MOTIVES.  353 

volition  results  from  a  more  or  less  complex  aggregation 
of  motives  :  and,  second,  that  tJiis  aggregation  of  motives 
exhausts  the  possible  alternatives  of  'present  action. 

The  first  position  is  clear  from  the  analysis  of  the  affective 
basis  of  volition  above,  in  which  the  different  stimuli  to  voli- 
tion were  pointed  out.  It  is  impossible  that  any  one  of  these 
should  act  aloue,  for  a  man  is  never  free  from  his  body,  on 
one  side,  or  his  higher  ideals,  on  another  side,  or  his  emo- 
tional tone,  on  a  third.  They  are  all  present  always  in  normal 
life. 

The  second  position  shows  us  that  any  doctrine  according 
to  which  a  man  can  transcend  his  motives,  hold  aloof  from 
them,  despise  and  reject  them,  simply  asks  us  to  chase  a 
fire-fly.  If  you  remove  a  man's  motives  you  remove  the  man; 
for  what  is  the  man  but  body  and  mind?  The  whole  content 
of  volition  disappears.  To  will  at  all,  a  something  must  be 
willed,  but  this  something  is  a  pictured  something,  bearing 
some  relation  to  myself.  The  reason  I  will  it  is  because  it 
moves  mo — is  my  motive.  Let  me  picture  never  so  strongly 
the  fabulous — the  utterly  uninteresting  and  indifferent — and 
will  in  reference  to  it  is  impossible.  I  can  never  make  new 
,  motives,  or  will  a  thing  that  does  not  for  some  reason  find  a 
responsive  echo  in  my  breast. 

Nature  of  Motives.  It  is  also  plain  that  a  motive  is 
nothinpj  in  itself.  It  is  only  a  name  for  a  partial  expres- 
sion of  the  nature  of  an  agent.  Consequently,  motives 
can  in  no  sense  be  considered  as  forces  which  expend 
their  energies  upon  the  will,  or  which  figlit  each  other. 
These  conceptions  of  current  psychology  are  nothing 
short  of  myths — myths  which  have  "darkened  counsel 
without  wisdom"  long  enough.  Apart  from  the  motives, 
there  is  no  will  to  fight  against,  and  as  to  struggling 
with  each  other — that  would  mean  either  that  each  of 
the  motives  had  a  will  of  its  own,  or  that  there  were  no 
common  life  whose  full  realization  is  the  best  satisfac- 
tion of  them  all.  Here  is  a  deve]()])ing  ])rinciple— call 
it  what  we  may — whose  different  life-furthering  ada])ta- 
tions  represent  a  hierarchy  of  worths.  One  wortli  is 
chosen.     If  it  be  the  best,  the  others  are  also  furtluued 


354  VOLITION. 

witli  it  by  their  very  denial :  if  it  be  lower  tlian  tlie  best, 
it  suffers  with  the  others  through  its  gratification  ;  both 
because,  as  elements  of  a  common  life,  all  are  involved 
in  the  gratification  of  each.  How,  then,  can  they  be 
conceived  as  separate  entities  contending  in  a  theatre 
which  is  cold  stone  to  all  of  them  ?  Rather,  they  are 
all  vital  elements  in  the  functional  synthesis  of  a  living 
consciousness. 

Affects  as  Motives.  Among  motives,  two  great  classes 
have  been  distinguished,  affects  and  ends.  The  former 
are  immediate  influences  upon  the  will,  unpictured, 
unreckoned,  unavoidable.  The  latter  are  reflective 
motives,  pictured,  estimated,  subject  to  conscious  selec- 
tion or  rejection.  Now  it  is  plain  that  these  two  classes 
of  motives  stand  on  very  different  planes  in  the  men- 
tal life,  as  regards  their  volitional  worth.  If  all  vo- 
lition is  in  ^dew  of  an  end,  then  it  is  only  by  strength- 
ening the  influence  of  particular  ends  that  affects  enter. 
If  I  grow  greatly  excited,  for  example,  over  a  particular 
choice,  my  excitement  colors  my  choice  only  in  so  far  as 
it  presses  home  upon  me  one  alternative  of  my  choice. 
My  physical  health  alters  my  opinions  and  reactions, 
not  by  supplj'ing  me  a  new  end,  but  by  brightening  a 
consideration  here,  dulling  another  there,  rendering  the 
attention  sluggish,  and  so  limiting  the  range  of  my 
consideration,  or  stimulating  it  greatly  and  so  pitching 
the  entire  intellectual  play  at  a  higher  key.  What 
actual  volition  is  concerned  with,  therefore,  is  ends  and 
ends  only. 

The  clearest  example  as  well  as  the  plainest  demonstra- 
tion of  the  influence  of  such  subconscious  motives  upon 
choice  is  given  by  recent  results  in  hypnotism."  A  suggestion 
given  to  a  patient,  with  instructions  to  carry  it  out  at  a  cer- 
tain hour  after  being  restored  to  his  normal  condition,  is  car- 

'  Binet  and  Fere,  Animal  Magnetism,  pp.  207  f . 


VOLITIONAL  APPERCEPTION.  355 

ried  out  when  the  time  arrives.  The  subject  acts  vokmtarily, 
pursues  a  present  end,  but  declares  that  he  can  give  no  reason 
whatever  for  his  conduct,  as  no  trace  exists  in  his  memory  of 
what  occurred  during  the  sleep.  The  stimulus  to  the  will 
must  have  remained  somewhere  in  him,  though  not  in  his 
consciousness.  Of  course  the  new  hypothesis  of  a  subsid- 
iary or  split-off  consciousness  suggests  itself  here. 

Volitional  Apperception.  How,  then,  does  an  end 
pass  into  a  volition ;  how  does  it  get  the  fiat  which 
makes  it  an  act?  Careful  questioning  of  consciousness 
leads  us  to  see  that  the  picturing  of  ends  is  in  no  respect 
different  from  the  picturing  of  anything  else.  It  is  an 
ordinary  act  of  apperception,  by  which  new  elements  of 
conscious  content  are  taken  up  in  an  integration  with 
the  old-established  complex  of  presentation.  The  new 
end  gets  in  only  as  far  as  it  is  adjusted  and  harmo- 
nized with  old  ends :  the  old  ends  themselves,  a  single 
integrated  group,  take  on  a  new  complexion  from  the 
new  element  of  experience  thus  absorbed.  The  atten- 
tion moves  throughout  the  series  of  elements,  grasping, 
relating,  retaining,  selecting,  and  when  the  integration 
it  effects  swells  and  fills  consciousness — that  is  the  fiat. 
Just  as  soon  as  the  elements  of  the  end-complex  cease 
to  act  as  partial  influences,  causing  the  movements  of 
a;ttention  by  their  own  vividness,  and  the  attention  gets 
its  hold  upon  its  integrated  content  as  a  grand  related 
situation,  the  fiat  goes  forth. 

For  example,  I  have  been  accustomed,  after  careful 
thought,  to  pursue  a  given  line  of  business  policy.  It 
is  the  outcome  of  all  my  thinking,  feeling,  and  past 
action — an  integration,  a  motor  situation,  which  exhausts 
my  motives  and  represents  my  present  volitional  atti- 
tude. A  friend  gives  me  new  information  ;  it  gets  an 
entrance  by  its  own  intrinsic  hold  upon  my  attention  ;  it 
becomes  an  element  in  tlie  situation  ;  every  other  ele- 
ment gets  a  new  adjustment ;  and  when  I  make  up  my 
mind  again,  get  control  of  the  situation  through  relative 


356  VOLITION. 

stability  in   tlie  apperceptive  outcome — then   I   am  at 
once  in  action — my  fiat  is  given. 

Now  no  one  end  has  brought  about  this  result.  I 
do  not  adopt  one  and  utterly  deny  others.  I  adopt  the 
situation  in  which  all  have  entered  and  to  which  they 
have  given  each  its  own  significance.  It  is  true  that  the 
exigencies  of  conduct  narrow  me  down  to  a  very  small 
number  of  expressions.  I  must  either  go  to  the  opera 
or  stay  away.  But  neither  alternative  represents  my 
true  mind.  I  decide  to  go,  since;  to  stay  away,  if  ; 
and  whichever  I  do,  it  is  with  the  clear  consciousness 
that  I  am  not  realizing  my  ideal  volitional  situation  in 
the  premises.  Instead  of  indulging  one  of  my  ends,  I 
am  acting  on  a  compromise,  which  really  satisfies  none. 

Volitional  apperception,  therefore,  difl'ers  from  gen- 
eral apperception  only  in  its  explicit  motor  reference. 
This  reference,  as  has  been  seen,  is  present  in  all  apper- 
ception ;  no  state  of  consciousness  lacks  it.  But  when  ' 
I  have  action  in  view,  the  moving  quality  of  the  ele- 
ments of  my  synthesis  is  more  felt.  Generally,  my  de- 
cision is  simpl}'  consent — the  passage  of  "the  adopt- 
ing act."  I  consent  to  a  thing  when  I  give  it  my  sanc- 
tion. This  is  volition  ;  but  not  as  full  a  volition  as 
the  volition  of  conduct.  When  I  know  that  my  own 
fate  is  involved,  that  it  is  I  who  must  act,  there  is  a  ful- 
ness of  emotional  warmth  and  reality  that  gives  new 
affective  coloring  to  the  ends  involved,  and  perhaps  radi- 
cally alters  the  outcome. 

It  is  rearlily  seen  tliat  a  new  class  of  emotions  is  in- 
volved in  this  latter  case,  the  self-emotions,  i.e.,  pride,  am- 
bition, shame,  etc.  As  soon  iis  the  notion  of  self  gets  in- 
volved in  the  controversy,  it  is  impossible  to  escape  their 
influence  entirely.  They  enter  as  additional  motives,  gener- 
ally affects,  but  possibly  distinct  pictured  ends  of  desire. 
For  tills  reason,  it  is  difficult  to  make  our  judgments  of  our- 
selves as  severe  and  exacting  as  the  demands  we  make  of 
others. 


DELIBERATION.  357 

Controlling  Motive,  Tlie  controlling  motive,  conse- 
quently, is  the  motive  wliicli  wins  the  fiat.  But  it  is 
very  difficult  to  find  anything  that  it  controls.  It  does 
not  exist  at  all  after  the  fiat,  for  the  outcome  of  the  fiat 
is  a  new  end  in  which  all  the  motives  have  entered.  So 
it  does  not  control  conduct,  which  is  the  expression  of 
the  fiat.  For  the  same  reason,  it  does  not  control  the 
volition  itself.  Every  one  of  the  motives  is  controlling 
in  the  same  sense,  i.e.,  of  entering  essentially  in  the 
result.  Tlie  only  advantage  it  has  over  other  motives  is 
that  it  becomes  the  final  channel  of  ex]3ression '  in  con- 
duct ;  an  advantage  denied  to  them.  In  this  sense  it 
controls  the  other  motives,  but  only  in  this  sense. 

Deliberation.  The  state  of  division,  balance,  and  in- 
decision described,  is  ordinarily  called  deliberation.  Its 
nature  is  now  sufficiently  clear.  Its  duration  depends 
upon  the  complexity  of  the  considerations  wliich  arise, 
the  evenness  of  their  motive  influence,  and  tlie  absence 
of  pressing  urgency  of  choice.  Individuals  var}^  greatly 
in  the  thoroughness  of  their  deliberative  processes.  As 
a  rule,  deliberate,  slow  decisions  are  safest,  though,  as 
has  been  seen,  it  is  possible  that  an  unexpected  flash  of 
conceptual  feeling  may  carry  the  day  in  favor  of  an  un- 
seen aspect  of  truth.  An  important  additional  motive 
in  deliberation  is  tlie  state  of  mind  called  cauiion,  arising 
from  a  sense  of  the  danger  of  hasty  decision.' 

'  Either  real  or  intcnikHl  expression  :  it  is  well  i)oiiitc(l  out  by  Bain 
(EmotiouH  and  Will,  p.  I'OO)  tli;it  the  act  is  coitiplete  and  the  motive  eon- 
trf'Uintr  (in  his  view  ])cc!iiise  of  pleasure  and  ])ain  associations)  wiien  in 
fatijTiie  or  disease  there  is  no  energy  to  carry  ii  out.  Wundt's  explana- 
tion of  the  fact  is  nearer  that  of  the  text;  cf.  Kibot,  (Jennan  Pnycliologi/ 
of  Today,  pp  202,  20:'., 

'■'Bain  makes  caution,  of  course,  jiurely  n  pleasure -pain  motive, 
and  tlie  entire  ground  of  the  voluntary  delay  involved  in  dclilicia- 
tion;  loc  ci't.,  p.  408  f.  This  means  tiiat  instead  of  the  popular  "  lie  sure 
you're  right,  then  go  ahead,"  our  real  state  of  mind  is  "  Be  sure  you're 


858  VOLITION. 

Choice.  Choice  is  the  fiat  itself — the  adopting  act — 
as  it  termiuates  upon  an  end.  It  is  volition  considered 
not  as  the  general  form  of  will,  whatever  content  it  may 
be  exercised  upon,  but  a  particular  volition  upon  one  of 
alternative  pictured  ends.  A  choice  is  always  a  definite 
particular  choice.  And  it  includes,  as  a  phenomenon  in 
consciousness,  the  feeling  of  the  continuance  of  the 
partial  ends  which  enter  in  deliberation.  It  does  not 
quench  one  desire  to  resolve  to  satisfy  another.  And  the 
intellectual  act  of  apperception,  whereby  the  course 
chosen  is  constituted,  may  find  itself  in  need  of  constant 
reiteration  to  maintain  itself.  We  need  to  be  constantly 
reminded  of  the  reasons  of  our  faith  in  order  not  to  lose 
it.  The  greatest  moral  victories  may  be  subsequently 
lost  through  the  stolen  march  of  a  desire  or  impulse  once 
successfully  subdued.  Choice,  therefore,  is  the  feeling 
of  the  settlement  of  a  question  which  is  still  a  possible 
question.  It  is  a  volitional  declaration  with  a  felt  inter- 
rogation. As  soon  as  our  decisions  pass  out  of  the 
range  of  reconsideration,  they  are  not  properly  choices 
any  longer ;  they  become,  then,  elements  in  character. 

Potential  and  Pinal  Choice.  In  regard  to  the  per- 
formance of  a  course  of  conduct,  two  stages  or  aspects 
of  choice  may  be  distinguished,  potential  and  Jinal  choice. 
By  potential  choice  is  meant  a  man's  decision  as  far  as 
it  results  from  his  own  character,  disposition,  personal 
preferences,  etc.  Potential  choice  covers  the  whole 
range  of  affective  motives,  the  dumb  unpictured  in- 
fluences which  get  in  their  work  silently.  It  includes 
also  the  ends  which  one's  own  character,  memory, 
knowledge  supply  :  in  short,  it  represents  the  decision  I 
reach  when  "  left  to  mj^self."  It  is  potential  choice  that 
we  feel  sure  about  in  the  case  of  our  friends :   it  is  more 

safe,  then  go  ahead."    He  terminates  deliberation  by  the  felt  danger  of 
indecision. 


FEELING  OF  ALTERNATIVES.  359 

approximately  a  constant  tiling  from  clay  to  day.  It 
represents  the  great  currents  of  our  lives,  the  habitual 
lines  of  activity,  opinion,  and  interest,  of  which  more 
remains  to  be  said  below. 

Final  choice,  on  the  contrary,  is  actual  choice,  active 
choice,  acting  choice.  It  is  the  full  outcome  of  deliber- 
ation from  whatever  sources  considerations  may  come. 
It  is  the  adjustment,  the  compromise,  as  it  was  called 
above,  of  all  the  actual  circumstances  of  the  case.  It  is 
choice  as  a  spectator  looks  at  it  and  asks,  what  did  he 
do  ?  Not  what  did  he  personally  most  wish,  or  did  his 
action  satisfy  his  ideal  situation?  It  is,  further,  in  the 
later  stages  of  deliberation  that  potential  choice  suffers 
the  revision  which  makes  volition  actual.  It  is  brought 
about  by  the  more  unessential,  the  less  interesting  con- 
siderations. Many  a  fond  wish  is  murdered  by  the 
present  demands  of  cruel  circumstance.  It  is  also 
here,  in  the  more  or  less  open  interval  between  potential 
and  actual  choice,  that  the  estimable  qualities  of  open- 
mindedness  and  ingenuousness  appear.  The  open-minded 
man  is  receptive  to  new  suggestions,  arguments,  and 
emotional  apf)eals.  His  habits  of  action  have  not  become 
so  petrified  about  him  as  to  block  up  the  channels  of 
new  volitional  reaction.  Others  "are  not  so,  but  are 
like  the  house  which  is  founded  upon  a  rock."  Nothing 
but  an  earthquake  can  shake  the  man  whose  potential 
equates  with  his  actual  choice  regularly. 

Feeling  of  Alternatives.  The  feeling  of  open  alterna- 
tives which  is  said  to  characterize  choice  rests,  when  an 
act  of  volition  is  closely  scrutinized,  in  one  of  two  places  : 
either  before  the  volition,  during  deliberation,  or  after 
volition.  Before  volition,  the  possible  alternatives  are  act- 
ually present  as  candidates  for  the  position  of  controlling 
motive.  We  know  that  one  of  them  and  only  one  will 
be  the  final  channel  of  expression.     Any  one  is  eligible 


360  VOLITION. 

for  this.  They  are  really  alternatires  also  in  the  sense 
that  the  outcome  is  not  yet  foreseen  :  consciousness  has 
-  not  yet  reached  the  stage  at  which  there  is  any  outcome 
at  all.  But  these  two  considerations  exhaust  the  mean- 
ing of  felt  alternatives  before  volition.  This  feeling  is 
further  complicated  with  that  of  obligation. 

After  volition,  as  already  said,  the  motives  persist. 
The  circumstances  of  deliberation  throng  back  upon  us : 
especially  after  a  hard  long-fought  decision  do  we  live 
by  retrospection  in  the  past.  But  further  than  this,  we 
feel  that  another  revision  is  possible :  that  new  light 
may  come  to  us  and  our  decision  may  be  reversed. 
Here  again,  therefore,  are  two  senses  in  which  alterna- 
tives are  felt ;  one,  the  persistence  of  the  conditions  of 
a  choice  already  made,  the  Naclildang  of  our  effort,  the 
drifting  smoke  of  the  battle-field  :  the  other,  the  gather- 
ing again  of  the  conditions  of  choice,  the  preparation  of 
a  new  choice.  This  latter,  therefore,  is  identical  with 
the  similar  feeling  before  volition.  Accordingly,  the 
feeling  of  alternatives  is  always  a  sense  of  contempora- 
neous motives  or  of  reminiscences  of  such. 

As  to  volition  itself,  however,  it  is  accompanied  by 
no  feeling  of  alternatives.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  felt  as 
a  peculiarly  exclusive,  definite,  intolerant  thing.  It  ter- 
minates alternatives,  and  fills  consciousness  with  a  single 
apperceived  presentation.  As  Kibot  phrases  it,  voluntary 
attention  is  a  state  of  monoideism.  If  I  attend  to  two 
things  at  once,  it  is  because  I  will  both  things  ;  together 
they  give  the  end.  The  end  itself  is  one  and  undivided. 
This  cessation  of  deliberation  is  accompanied  by  an 
emotional  coloring  of  relief  which  is  highlj'  pleasurable ; 
and  it  is  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  unpleasant  tone  of  con- 
flict which  characterizes  indecision. 

Moral  Choice.  Moral  choice  involves  the  moral  im- 
pulse as  a  motive  principle.     In  decisions  in  which  moral 


MORAL   CHOICE.  361 

feelings  are  not  involved,  tliis  principle  is  practically 
absent.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  coefficient  of  the  right 
in  conduct  is,  or  is  likely  to  be,  disregarded,  a  new  color- 
ing is  given  to  all  the  phases  of  the  act  of  volition.  In 
addition  to  the  consideration  of  expediency  which  is  the 
unwritten  law  of  choices  morally  indifferent,  the  consid- 
eration of  right  enters  through  the  ethical  feelings.  Each 
pictured  end  has  its  value  as  relatively  fit  or  unfit  for 
construction  in  an  ideal  of  conduct. 

There  are  two  peculiarities  about  the  moral  motive, 
however,  when  considered  as  entering  among  the  factors 
of  deliberation.  First,  it  is  not  itself  a  pictured  end  al- 
ternative to  other  ends.  We  have  found  that  the  moral 
ideal  is  not  presentable.  It  is  rather  realized  in  the 
relative  adjustment  of  other  ends  to  one  another.  Con- 
sequently, the  moral  motive  is  not  realized  by  withdrawal 
from  the  ordinary  conditions  of  action,  or  by  its  own 
abstract  pursuit ;  it  does  not  present  for  itself  a  distinct 
channel  of  expression.  It  enters  to  dignify  and  justify 
one  of  the  ordinary  series  of  alternatives,  as  of  more 
worth  in  a  scale  of  moral  values. 

Second,  the  moral  motive,  as  said  in  an  earlier  con- 
nection, carries  Math  it  the  felt  authority  of  a  cate- 
gorical imperative.  I  may  decide  on  the  expediency  of 
a  course  and  then  disregard  it,  with  no  blame,  no  re- 
morse :  but  when  I  decide  on  its  rightness,  this  very 
decision  is  a  recognition  of  an  authority  beyond  which 
there  is  no  appeal 

Choice  and  Habit.  In  the  sphere  of  volition,  as  else- 
where, the  law  of  habit  has  striking  applications.  Ends 
tend  by  repetition  to  coalesce  with  OTie  another.  Com- 
plex series  of  volitions  become  so  closely  integrated,  that 
a  starting  fiat  is  all  that  is  necessary  to  bring  about  a 
series  of  well-adjusted  motor  reactions.  Here,  again, 
two  great  views  of  habituation  oi)en  before  us.     First, 


362  VOLITION. 

the  voluntary  sliifting  of  attention,  tLe  effort  to  select, 
arrange,  accomplish,  becomes  unnecessary  by  the  law 
that  association  takes  over  the  work  of  intelligence. 
Thus  the  surface  of  consciousness  is  made  more  calm 
from  moment  to  moment,  and  the  attention  is  left  free 
for  new  fields  of  exploration.  Such  a  combination  of 
elements  in  a  single  voluntary  movement  we  may  call 
an  act.  Thus,  opening  a  book  and  turning  to  the  place 
desired  is  an  act :  but  it  represents  innumerable  efforts, 
failures,  and  partial  successes  extending  over  years  of 
child-life.  An  act  is  what  was  called  in  an  earlier  con- 
nection a  "  motor  intuition."  ' 

Second,  these  acts  get  segregated  in  like  manner  ; 
lose  their  individuality  in  what  are  called  dispositions. 
Our  acts  grow  more  and  more  alike :  our  day's  devices 
become  routine  :  our  satisfactions  vary  with  our  educa- 
tion, and  fall  back  under  the  lead  of  impulse.  Nothing, 
in  short,  in  which  our  agency  is  involved,  escapes  the 
solidifying,  unifying  effects  of  habit' 

The  result  is  that  ends  get  back  to  the  status  of 
affects,  and  our  voluntary  life  becomes  more  limited  in 
the  range  of  clear  consciousness.  Even  the  power  to 
rebel  against  a  habit  is  itself  a  matter  of  habit.  A  habit 
is  hopelessly  fixed  when  there  is  no  disposition  to  break 
it  up. 

Hence  the  extreme  importance,  on  the  part  of  teach- 
ers, of  a  clear  understanding  of  the  laws  of  volition  in  its 
early  rise  and  progress.  Variety  should  be  everywhere 
provided  in  the  tasks  for  children.  Choices  which  in- 
volve self-denial  should  be  dwelt  upon,  illustrated,  and 
encouraged.  No  pains  should  be  spared  to  give  the 
child  an  intelligent  view  of  the  claims  of  others  upon 
him,  in  order  that  the  habits  which  he  does  form  may 
be  beneficent  and  moral. 

'  Senses  and  Intellect,  chap.  viii.  §  6. 
*Cf.  Lotze,  Microcosinus,  i.  p.  255. 


CHARACTER.  363 

Intellectual  Effort :  its  Forms.  Eifort  to  accomplisli 
an  intellectual  task  is  characterized  bj  the  marks  already 
found  attaching  to  muscular  effort.  Indeed  the  latter  is 
but  a  particular  case  of  the  former.  The  effort  to  keep 
up  a  train  of  thought,  to  suppress  an  emotion,  to  bring 
order  and  coherence  into  the  mental  flow,  has  the  same 
feelings  of  fiat,  dead-lift,  resistance,  already  found  in  the 
earlier  case.  If  we  can  manage  to  keep  the  attention 
well  fixed  upon  the  object  of  desire,  the  battle  is  won — 
it  swells  and  fills  consciousness,  and  wins  volition. 

Special  forms  that  more  intellectual  effort  takes  are 
resolution,^  determination,  perseverance,  doggedness:  all  the 
manifestations  of  so-called  strength  of  will.  They  all 
express  the  more  or  less  habitual  exercise  of  attention 
as  it  gains  control  and  comes  to  characterize  the  indi- 
vidual. They  refer  more  especially  to  potential  choice, 
as  reflecting  character. 

§  2.  Character. 

The  conception  of  character,  apart  from  the  meta- 
physics of  it,  properly  attaches  to  the  active  side  of 
personality.  It  means  the  essential  part  of  a  man, 
that  which  is  most  himself,  but  it  is  interpreted,  like 
everything  else,  in  its  expression.  Action  is  the  only 
and  the  adequate  expression  of  a  man.  So  character 
means  the  present  agent,  the  possible  actor.  The  notion 
also  includes  the  idea  of  permanence.  Character  is  that 
expression  of  a  man  which  is  most  constant,  habitual, 
and,  in  consequence,  most  unconscious,  un^jremeditated, 
genuine. 

While  the  most  permanent  expression  of  personality, 
nevertheless  character  is  not  a  stationary  thing.  It  is  a 
progressive,  developing  thing.  Especially  in  early  life, 
the   change  and  develoi:)ment  of  character  are    super- 

'  See  Bain ,  Emotiom  and  Will,  i.  p.  417. 


364  VOLITION. 

ficially  evident  and  present  the  only  adequate  state- 
ment of  the  problem  of  education.  As  has  already  been 
seen,  the  growth  of  mental  function  as  a  whole  waits,  in 
early  life,  upon  the  growth  of  the  physical  organism ;  in 
later  life,  it  becomes  more  independent,  developing 
under  the  law  of  volition ;  but  in  both  cases  it  is  still, 
with  the  physical  organism,  subject  to  influences  from  the 
conditions  which  envisage  the  personality  as  a  w^hole. 

We  may  speak  of  the  "innate  gift  of  nature"  as  a 
man's  endoiument,  that  which  he  starts  with,  received  by 
inheritance.  It  includes  all  his  j)otencies  for  develop- 
ment as  far  as  they  can  be  conceived  apart  from  the 
external  conditions  in  which  alone  they  can  be  de- 
veloped. On  the  other  hand,  the  sum  of  these  external 
conditions  from  birth  upward,  considered  as  influencing 
character,  we  may  call  environment. 

The  question  as  to  the  nature  of  present  character^ 
is  accordingly  this :  what  is  the  law  of  the  development 
of  a  man's  endowment  in  relation  to  his  environment  ? 
Two  great  principles  already  arrived  at  find  further 
application  here,  i.e.,  the  principles  of  adaptation  and 
habituation. 

Development  of  Character  through  Choice.  It  is  by 
choice,  that  these  principles  get  their  application. 
Choice  plays  the  part  in  the  development  of  character 
that  nervous  reactions  play  in  the  development  of  the 
sentient  organism.  Nervous  reactions  were  found  to  be 
to  a  degree  selective  and  adaptive  ;  and  further,  it  ap- 
peared that  such  adaptations  become  fixed  in  structure 
by  the  principle  of  hal)it.  So  choice  is  selective  and 
adaptive,  and  its  reactions  create  tendencies  toward 
those  habitual  performances  which  are  the  outcome  of 
character. 

It  is  in  final  choice  that  the  reaction  of  endowment 
upon   new  environing   conditions   becomes  evident.     A 


CHARACTER.  365 

man's  potential  choice  represents  tliat  wliich  is  already 
in  liim.  Any  modification  of  potential  choice  is  due  to 
influences  from  without,  to  environment.  The  conse- 
quent reaction  tends  to  identify  the  man  with  the  new 
consideration  before  foreign  to  him.  He  has  taken  it  up 
in  his  deliberation,  given  it  a  place  in  the  list  of  motives 
which  appeal  to  him,  and  thus  disclosed  a  desire,  whim, 
preference,  now  more  important  to  him  because  he  once 
has  harbored  it.  Character,  accordingly^  as  an  expressive 
thing,  has  thus  taken  a  step  in  its  develojDment  through 
the  influence  of  environment. 

.The  potential  choice  of  a  man  at  any  time,  therefore, 
represents  all  the  final  choices  of  his  past  life.  Each 
link  in  the  chain  of  volitions,  from  the  present  back  to 
his  first  exercise  of  choice,  has  involved  these  elements. 
The  very  first  act  of  choice  of  a  human  being  is  already 
expressive  of  the  accommodation  of  himself  to  his  cir- 
cumstances. Indeed,  it  is  through  the  stress  of  circum- 
stances, through  the  necessity  imposed  by  muscular  re- 
sistances,violent  pains,  and  crying  appetites,  that  volition 
in  the  first  place  takes  its  rise. 

Accordinglv,  it  is  easv  to  see  that  environment  enters 
in  the  development  of  character  in  three  waj^s.  First, 
the  way  we  have  already  seen :  it  presents  new  ends  for 
choice.  Second,  it  becomes  a  conscious  influence  over 
our  prospective  choices.  We  decide  our  questions  sub- 
ject to  future  light,  circumstance,  fortune.  The  char- 
acter thus  grows  pliable,  the  will  cautious,  action  hypo- 
thetical. This  result  of  environment  is  a  more  complex 
and  refined  application  of  the  law  of  habituation.  "Where 
uniformity  of  experience  prevails,  action  grows  habitual. 
Where  lack  of  uniformity  prevails,  distrust  and  caution 
grow  habitual.  The  latter  is  more  unusual,  since  uni- 
formity is  more  easily  seen  and  accommodated  to  :  but 
it  is  equally  real — the  tendency  of  reflective  thought 
upon  the  relative  values  of   experiences,  to  make  men 


366  VOLITION. 

sceptical  in  their  opinions  and  unentliusiastic  in  tlieir 
deportment.  It  simply  means  that  indecision,  -u-hich  is 
the  enemy  of  habit,  paralyzes  volition ;  for  habit  makes 
volition  spontaneous  and  impulsive. 

Third,  the  principal  influence  of  environment  is  un- 
doubtedly before  and  during  the  early  rise  of  volition. 
In  very  early  childhood,  authority  is  the  controlling  in- 
fluence in  moulding  actual  choice,  and  thus  in  fixing  char- 
acter. So  important  is  this  that  some  writers '  find  in  the 
"word  of  command"  the  foundation  of  all  subsequent 
authority,  moral  as  well  as  legal.  However  this  may  be, 
the  observation  of  children  shows  to  what  a  remarkable 
extent  the  authoritative  suggestion  of  a  parent  sets  the 
inclinations  and  forms  the  habits  of  his  child.  Even  in 
the  matter  of  physical  appetites,  likes  and  dislikes  may 
be  to  a  large  extent  controlled.^  Imitation  and  sug- 
gestion start  reactions  which  become  habitual.  The 
unconscious  lesson  of  a  bad  example  learned  by  a  child 
from  his  father  is  one  of  nature's  most  impressive 
pieces  of  moral  instruction.  Moral  contagion  of  charac- 
ter is  as  direct  and  unconscious  as  phj-sical  contagion 
of  disease.  Further,  early  social  conditions,  family, 
school,  and  play  associates,  create  a  milieu  which  makes 
endowment  practically  helpless  as  to  the  methods  of  its 
expression  during  the  early  years  of  life.  Educationally, 
the  tremendous  influence  of  environment  is  the  more 
apparent  since  it  is  just  at  this  period  that  the  child 
begins  to  reach  those  conceptions  which  serve  as  point 
of  departure  for  moral  feeling. 

The  relative  strength  of  heredity  and  environment  is  thus 
a  matter  of  varying  adjustment.  In  many  cases  the  virlie 
growth  of  inherited  tendency  may  outlive  and  defy  the  most 


>  Bain. 

*  The  diet  of  a  child  from  one  to  two  years  of  age  may  be  made  the 
basis  of  permanent  appetites  by  judicious  suggestions  of  relish  and 
enjoyment. 


MENTAL  INITIATION.  367 

careful  or  careless  training.  Galton  shows  this  in  his  inter- 
esting inquiry  touching  the  development  of  twins.'  It  cer- 
tainly is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  environment  of  a  single 
lifetime  will  undo  the  acquisitions  of  generations  in  environ- 
ment equally  forceful.  But  generally,  the  effects  of  heredity 
are  not  so  uniform  in  fixing  positive  traits  of  character.  A 
child  inherits  not  only  from  his  immediate  parents,  but  from 
theirs,  and  Galton's  **'  law  of  reversion  to  type"  Avould  tend  to 
neutralize  those  prominent  traits  which  survive.  Conse- 
quently an  important  part  of  character,  it  is  safe  to  say,  remains 
to  find  its  form  of  development  in  the  conditions  environing 
the  individual  life.  The  development  of  character  may  be 
represented  by  a  line  (x,  endowment)  broken  by  the  recurrent 
intersection  of  other  lines  {y,  y',  etc.,  environment),  the 
angles  thus  formed  being  points  of  choice  (a,  a',  etc.,  poten- 
tial, and  h,  h',  etc.,  final),  as  follows: 


§  3.  IxiTiATioN  OF  Motives  by  Attention". 

Coming  closer  to  the  actual  method  of  voluntary  at- 
tention, we  seem  to  find  a  wide  range  of  apparent  excep- 
tions to  the  law  of  motives  as  now  stated.  The  atten- 
tion, we  know,  intensifies  a  mental  state.  It  is  possible 
simply  by  dwelling  upon  a  consideration  to  increase  its 
importance  to  us,  to  give  it  preponderating  influence  in 
our  deliberation,  and,  finally,  to  convince  ourselves  of 
its  supreme  desirableness.  It  looks,  if  not  like  the  ini- 
tiation of  new  motives  by  the  attention,  at  least  like  the 
initiation  of  new  intensity  in  old  motives.  This  effect  is 
further  exaggerated  by  the  fading  out  of  other  motives 
in  consequence  of  the  withdrawal  of  the  attention  from 

'  Inquiries  into  Uuman  Faculty,  pp.  31G  ff. 


368  VOLITION. 

them  in  favor  of  tlie  "  star  actor."  The  important  ques- 
tion is :  Is  this  exercise  of  the  attention  itself  unmo- 
tived — independent  of  the  conditions  of  endowment  and 
environment  already  pointed  out  ?  This  question  must 
be  answered  in  the  negative,  for  several  reasons. 

1.  Such  a  result  often  follows  upon  the  involuntary 
exercise  of  the  attention.  Bj^  a  sudden  stimulus  from 
without,  the  attention  is  shifted,  leaves  the  chain  of  de- 
liberation, dwells  upon  an  alternative  before  subordi- 
nate, and  so  changes  the  throw  of  volition.  A  burglar 
greedy  of  gain  contemplates  a  robbery,  but  a  harmless 
noise  starts  associations  which  suggest  danger,  and  he 
deserts  his  enterprise.  Any  incident  which  arouses  the 
attention  from  its  line  of  easiest  passage,  and  gets  it 
concentrated  upon  a  different  train,  is  apt  to  modify 
choice.  So  lawyers  aim  to  divert  the  attention  of  jury- 
men from  the  claims  of  mercy  by  exhibiting  bloody 
weapons,  dwelling  upon  terrible  incidents,  and  thus 
getting  the  attention  under  the  lead  of  strong  emotion. 
In  these  cases  there  is  clearly  no  factor  apart  from  the 
environment  and  the  elements  of  character  which  re- 
spond to  it. 

2.  It  seems  possible  to  divide  all  cases  of  such  ap- 
parent initiation  of  motive  intensity  into  two  classes; 
one,  the  cases  of  involuntary  attention  mentioned,  and 
the  other,  cases  of  deliberation.  If  I  have  no  intention 
at  all  in  the  matter,  no  trace  of  preference  for  the  motive 
whose  intensity  is  strengthened,  then  it  is  clearly  invol- 
untary— a  matter  of  the  reactive  consciousness.  But  as 
soon  as  any  such  preference  comes  in — any  physical, 
mental,  or  emotional  motive  for  wishing  to  intensify  this 
particular  alternative— then  my  choice  is  already  made, 
and  I  am  fooling  myself  in  thinking  that  I  am  reaching 
an  unbiassed  decision.  Most  of  the  instances  are  of  this 
latter  kind.     They  are  the  becoming  conscious  of  the 


FREED 021  OF  THE  WILL.  369 

great  class  of  volitional  stimuli  already  described  as 
affects.  Habit,  for  example,  becomes  conscious  in  its  in- 
liuence  on  volition  ;  vague  physical  and  emotional  states 
which  are  never  distinguished  from  the  fundamental 
tone  of  our  personality  reveal  themselves  thus,  as  ele- 
ments of  it. 

Hence  we  may  conclude  that  this  phenomenon  is  only 
a  phase  of  the  general  mystery  of  attention.  By  atten- 
tion, deliberation  takes  place,  and  choice  is  the  outcome 
of  this  deliberation.  When  we  are  absolutely  outside 
the  range  of  deliberation,  instead  of  finding  ourselves  in 
the  presence  of  altogether  unconditioned  activity,  we 
only  revert  back  to  activity  of  the  reflex  type, 

§  4.  Fkeedom:  of  the  Will. 

In  the  light  of  the  foregoing,  the  problem  of  the  free- 
dom of  the  will  takes  at  least  an  intelligible  form  of 
statement.  Freedom  of  the  man  is  perhaps  a  better 
way  of  stating  it.  Yet  the  term  freedom  suggests  a  com- 
parison with  the  conditions  of  j)liysical  causation  which 
is  essentially  misleading.  It  would  be  well  if  this  dis- 
cussion were  thrown  into  terms  of  psychological  meaning 
independent  of  poj^ular  usage  altogether.  The  statement 
of  the  following  alternative  views  may  suffice  to  bring 
out  the  real  point  at  issue  in  the  free-will  controversy. 

I.  Indeterminism.  On  this  view  of  volitiou,  choice 
is  absolutely  unconditioned.  The  will,  or  the  agent 
through  the  will,  asserts  itself  as  it  sees  fiL :  it  is  in  no 
way  conditioned  either  upon  motives,  brain  activities, 
or  external  circumstance.  Pure  indeterminism  is  also 
called  "  accidentalism."  In  opposition  to  such  a  view  of 
volition  it  may  be  said  : 

1.  It  is  altogether  unpsychological.  The  most  thor- 
ough search  of  consciousness  discovers  no  such  cases  of 


370  VOLITION. 

absolutely  unmotived  choice.  2.  It  leads  logically  to 
one  of  two  alternatives  :  either  the  will  has  no  relation 
whatever  to  its  social  and  physical  environment,  in  which 
case  it  can  have  in  turn  no  influence  of  any  kind  upon  it ; 
or  it  moves  by  chance,  whim,  caprice,  which  if  true  would 
-violate  the  uniformity  and  stability  of  character.  3.  It 
is  altogether  unnecessary  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  is 
usually  urged,  i.e.,  in  the  interest  of  moral  responsibility 
and  obligation  ;  for  an  unrelated  will  would  be  responsi- 
ble to  no  authority,  and  a  will  that  moved  by  chance 
would  know  no  law.  Indeterminism  is  claimed  chiefly 
by  the  unreflecting,  who  fail  to  see  that  in  holding  voli- 
tion to  be  motiveless,  they  cut  off  the  agent  himself  from 
all  voluntary  expression. 

II.  External  Determinism :  the  view  of  all  those  who 
by  any  method  bring  volition  within  the  chain  of  natural 
cause  and  effect ;  all  who  hold  that  there  is  no  activity 
in  the  voluntary  or  relational  consciousness  not  reduc- 
ible to  motive  forces.  On  this  view,  that  is,  motives  are 
forces  in  reference  to  one  another,  effects  in  reference  to 
the  brain  in  which  they  have  their  causal  support ;  voli- 
tion is  the  consciousness  of  the  outcome  of  a  conflict  of 
forces.  It  is  part  of  the  "  epiphenomenon"  theory  of 
consciousness  already  explained.  This  theory  in  turn 
evokes  several  criticisms. 

1.  The  theory  begs  the  difficulty  of  passing  from  the 
external  to  the  internal :  from  a  brain  process  to  con- 
sciousness. It  forgets  that  this  gulf  has  not  been  crossed. 
To  assume  a  uniform  psycho-physical  connection  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  assuming  that  consciousness  is  an 
epiphenomenon.  If  determinism  ever  be  established  at 
all,  it  will  be  a  determinism  which  reduces  volition  to 
other  states  of  consciousness,  not  one  that  presumes  to 
blot  out  consciousness  altogether. 

2.  After  we  get  in  consciousness,  we  have  no  right  to 


FREEDOM  OF  TEE   WILL.  371 

apply  the  law  of  physical  causation  to  motives.  It  is 
a  most  wanton  assumption  from  every  point  of  view, 
except  that  of  physical  analogy.  Motives  persistently 
elude  the  application  of  the  symbolism  of  natural 
causation.  Where  in  the  play  of  motives  is  the  law  of 
resultant?  Statistics  showing  uniformity  of  marriages, 
crimes,  etc.,  in  a  community,  simply  prove  that  men  have 
a  common  nature,  and  are  appealed  to  by  common 
motives ;  and  that  variations  of  choice  positive  and 
negative  equate  with  each  other.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  number  of  drowning  accidents  on  the  sea-coast,  and 
it  would  be  just  as  logical  to  claim  that  all  who  were 
drowned  were  pushed  into  the  water  and  held  under  as 
to  claim  that  iiniformity  in  the  aggregate  indicates  cause 
and  effect  in  individual  choice. 

3.  Physical  causation  presents  us  no  analogy  to  the 
selecting,  intensifying,  abbreviating,  and  synthesizing 
activity  of  attention.  As  far  as  the  analysis  of  physio- 
logical function  has  gone,  reflex  action  is  its  purest 
type ;  yet  even  in  the  cerebral  processes  which  underlie 
volition,  directive  modifications  of  the  reflex  have  to  be 
presupposed.  Even  though  the  law  of  conservation 
sweep  through  the  brain,  as  we  hold  it  does ;  yet  it  is 
only  when  selective  consciousness  is  present,  and  pre- 
sumably because  it  is  present,  that  the  resulting  reac- 
tions are  what  they  are.  In  order  to  prove  the  position, 
apperception  would  have  to  be  reduced  to  association, 
and  association  made  a  function  of  cerebral  dynamics 
only. 

4.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  know  no  external  influence 
which  can  comi)el  the  will.  When  we  do  influence 
another  it  is  by  previous  knowledge  of  his  inner  char- 
acter— the  mental  habits  spoken  of  ;  but  that,  at  its  best, 
is  by  no  means  a  certain  device.  It  is  true  that  if  there 
were  no  other  consideration  against  motive  determinism, 
this  fact  might  be  considered  due  to  the  complexity  of 


372  VOLITION. 

tlie  forces  inTolTed :  but  in  tlie  fact  of  tlie  conscious  syn- 
thesis of  choice,  it  seems  to  have  a  readier  explanation. 

HI.  Immanent  Determinism.  This  doctrine  holds 
that  there  is  in  man  a  principle  of  realization — the  realiza- 
tion both  of  himself  and  of  an  universal  consciousness 
through  him.  In  volition  this  principle  attains  advance- 
ment. The  innermost  nature  of  a  man  is,  therefore, 
necessarily  expressed  in  every  act  of  choice.  It  is  a  free 
expression  of  what  the  man  is,  and,  consequently,  of  all 
that  he  represents  as  part  of  the  world  :  but  it,  at  the 
same  time,  unconsciously  realizes  a  broader  development 
in  which  all  individuals  are  factors. 

As  far  as  this  theory  is  psychological,  it  is  tenable. 
Whatever  is  immanent  must  be  included  in  the  nature  of 
that  in  which  it  is  immanent :  so  volition  is,  after  all, 
for  psychology,  simply  the  expression  of  the  nature  of 
the  man  himself. 

All  metaphysical  construction  upon  this  basis,  however,  is 
foreign  to  psychology.  The  question  then  is  :  Is  the  position 
well  taken  tliat  choice  is  of  such  a  character  as  to  afford  a  basis 
for  an  immanental  view  ?  This  is  true  only  on  condition  that 
we  find  some  interpretation  of  choice  by  which  volition  is  a 
conditioned  but  not  a  caused  thing.  As  soon  as  we  make  it  a 
caused  thing,  theii  thtit  vrhich  is  the  immanent  cause  is  no 
longer  fully  identical  with  the  will,  i.e.,  is  no  longer  fully 
immanent,  and  we  go  back  to  external  determinism. 

IV.  Freedom  as  Self-Expression.  Our  view  is  now 
narrowed  down  to  ver}-  strait  limits.  The  considera- 
tion of  motives  has  led  to  several  determinations:  1. 
Choice  is  never  motiveless.  2.  The  end  chosen  is 
always  a  synthesis  of  all  present  motives,  and  is  ade- 
quately expressed  by  no  one  of  them.  3.  This  syn- 
thesis is  an  activity  sui  generis :  it  finds  no  analogy  in 
the  composition  of  physical  forces. 

These  positions  find  their  only  explanation  in  the 
supposition  that  the  existence  back  of  choice  includes 


FEELING   OF  FREEDOM.  373 

in  its  own  nature  botli  tlie  motives  and  tlie  volition.' 
Tlie  motives  do  not  grow  into  volition,  nor  does  the 
volition  stand  apart  from  the  motives.  The  motives  are 
partial  expressions,  the  volition  is  a  total  expression  of  the 
same  existence.  How  the  motives  pass  into  or  stimulate 
volition  is  the  law  of  mental  development,  a  law  which 
has  no  analogy  in  external  nature.  The  relation  of  this 
law  to  brain-development  is  again  a  higher  exhibition  of 
that  psjcho-phjsical  connection  which  has  been  as- 
sumed ;  a  connection  which  is  real,  but  which  yet  does 
not  prejudice  the  laM^s  of  development  on  one  side  or 
the  other.  As  has  been  said,  this  seems  to  point  to  some 
underlying  unity  in  which  the  antithesis  between  mech- 
anism and  volition  is  resolved. 

Freedom,  therefore,  is  a  fact,  if  by  it  we  mean  the  ex- 
pression of  one's  self  as  conditioned  by  past  choices  and 
present  environment.  It  is  not  a  fact,  in  an}-  sense  which 
denies  that  volition  is  thus  conditioned,  first,  upon  the 
actual  content  of  consciousness  as  it  swings  down  the  tide 
of  the  personal  life  and  presses  outward  for  motor  expres- 
sion ;  and  second,  upon  the  environing  circumstances 
which  draw  the  motor  consciousness  out.  Free  choice 
is  a  synthesis,  the  outcome  of  which  is,  in  every  case, 
conditioned  upon  its  elements,  but,  in  no  case,  caused 
by  them.  A  logical  inference  is  conditioned  upon  its 
premises,  but  it  is  not  caused  by  them.  Both  inference 
and  choice  express  the  nature  of  the  conscious  principle 
and  the  unique  method  of  its  life. 

The  much-debated  question  whether  a  man  could  have 
chosen  differently  in  the  same  circumstances,  is  seen  to  be 
quite  irrelevant  ;  for  the  reason  that  the  circumstances  can 
never  he  twice  the  sanu^  Yet  it  is  plain  that  to  s;iy  tluit  the 
apperceptive  process  of  choice  might  issue  differently  is  to 


'  Spinoza  says :  "  Will,  considered  witli  regiird  to  mind  and  body 
together,  [is]  uotliiug  else  than  the  beiug  of  the  man  liinisclf."  Eth.^ 
III.  9  Schol. 


374  VOLITION. 


suppose  some  change  in  its  content :  some  change  which 
Itriiigs  out  anotlier  phase  of  the  man's  character  for  expres- 
sion. But  as  has  been  seen,  such  changes  may  be  so  slight, 
so  superficial,  and  yet  may  work  such  results  in  volition — 
that  it  is  no  wonder  we  overlook  their  presence,  and  take  the 
case  for  one  of  possible  mental  initiation. 

Care  should  be  taken  to  distinguish  between  the 
question  of  freedom  and  that  of  the  relation  between 
body  and  mind.  If  consciousness  is  an  epiphenomenon, 
then  the  external  determinist  has  his  way ;  but  if  con- 
sciousness be  a  synthetic  thing,  still  the  determinist  is 
not  necessarily  excluded.  For  a  spiritual  synthetic  re- 
action may  be  a  link  in  a  series  of  such  reactions  cau- 
sally related  to  one  another.  Further,  if  consciousness 
do  not  interfere  in  any  way  in  the  play  of  brain  energies, 
yet  the  Avill  might  be  conceived  as  an  agency  which  does 
not  consent,  which  protests  against  its  physical  power- 
lessness,  as  does  the  paralytic.  Much  confusion  is 
current  from  the  failure  to  keep  these  two  questions 
distinct.' 

Feeling  of  Freedom.  The  feeling  of  freedom  seems  to 
be  made  up  of  two  other  feelings  about  equally,  i.e.,  the 
feeling  of  alternatives  and  the  feeling  of  agency  or  power. 
The  latter  is  rather  a  felt  reminiscence  than  a  state  of 
original  sensibility.  It  rests  largely  upon  memory  of 
past  stimulations  or  inhibitions  of  the  movements  now 
alternative  to  one  another.  Preyer '  holds  that  there  is 
true  will  only  when  there  is  positive  inhibitory  power 
over  the  movement  in  question  in  each  case.  This  is 
clearly  not  the  case  in  imitative  volition,  when  the  move- 
ment is  attempted  for  the  first  time :  but  yet  in  these 
cases  past  volitions  of  other  movements  are  sufficient  to 
give  the  memory  of  power.  It  is  probable  that  this  feel- 
ing of  power  or  agency  gets  rapidly  generalized  away 

'  For  example,  Hoffding,  Outlines,  vii.  B.  5,  6. 
^  Mind  of  the  Child,  trans.,  i.  pp.  192-95. 


FEELING   OF  RESPONSIBILITY.  375 

from  muscular  movements  in  particular,  to  alternative 
ends  to  which  muscular  reactions  are  only  means.  The 
feeling  of  alternatives,  as  has  been  seen,  also  goes  Ibefore 
volition,  or  is  also  due  to  reminiscence.  Hence  the  feeling 
of  freedom  is  subject  to  the  criticism  already  urged 
against  the  sense  of  alternatives  :  it  depends  upon  the 
division  in  consciousness  which  I  feel  it  is  for  myself, 
my  own  apperceptive  activit}-,  to  solve  in  the  future.' 
At  the  moment  of  volition  there  is  no  feeling  of  freedom. 
Rather,  when  the  fiat  goes  forth,  there  is  a  sense  of 
irrevocableness,  of  once-for-all  conclusiveness  ;  a  feeling 
of  having  thrown  one's  self  over  a  moral  precipice. 

Feeling  of  Responsibility,  As  soon  as  an  act  has  taken 
place,  a  new  phase  of  feeling  arises,  that  of  responsihiUty. 
It  arises  only  when  the  stimuli  to  will  have  been  stamped 
with  the  seal  of  one's  private  ownership.  I  do  not  feel 
responsible  for  my  desires,  impulses,  emotions,  except  as 
far  as  I  have  ratified  them  at  some  time  by  my  choice. 
Responsibility  is  a  feeling  of  a  past  explicit  choice,  just 
as  freedom  is  the  feeling  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  future 
choice.  As  attaching  to  all  final  choice,  this  feeling  is 
called  natural  responsibility.  It  is  only  the  sense  of 
ownership  in  the  deed  and  its  consequences.  When  thg 
motive  conditions  include  a  command  imposed  by  an  ex- 
ternal authority,  it  becomes  legal  responsibility ;  when 
the  imperative  of  duty  is  a  felt  condition  in  the  decision, 
it  is  moral  responsibilit3^  The  feeling  of  moral  respon- 
sibility for  wrong-doing  passes  quickly  into  remorse. 

'  .lessen  notes  this  future  reference  of  the  feeling,  Paychologie,  p.  363. 
Ulrici  says.  "  Freedom  of  will  is  only  freedom  of  choice,  for  all  we  feel 
free  to  do  is  to  choose  which  of  the  present  impulses  we  will  follow." 
Gott  und  der  Mensch,  2tc  Auf.,  ii. 


376  VOLITION. 

§  5.  Effects  of  Volition. 

Expressive  Effects.  The  immediate  e£fects  of  volun- 
tary attention  have  already  been  briefly  mentioned. 
Physiologically,  we  find  certain  sensations  of  concentra- 
tion in  the  head,  principally  at  the  sense-organ  through 
which  the  stimulus  is  received.  The  skin  of  the  head  is 
drawn  forward  and  knotted  on  the  forehead,  in  visual 
attention.  Experiments  show  an  increase  in  the  blood- 
supply  in  the  organ  attended  to.  In  attention  to  a 
picture  of  imagination,  or  in  attentive  thought,  the  eyes 
roll  upwards  and  around,  and  there  is  a  feeling  of  ex- 
ploration or  searching  in  the  back  of  the  skull.'  In 
strong  effort,  moreover,  there  is  a  setting  of  the  epiglottis 
and  a  compression  of  the  jaws.  All  these  indications  are 
additional  to  the  explosive  or  inhibitive  effect  to  which 
the  effort  itself  is  aimed,  and  which  it  in  so  far  accom- 
plishes. 

These  expressive  changes  are  rather  the  accompani- 
ments than  the  effects  of  attention.  The}^  bear  much  the 
same  relation  to  volition  that  emotional  expression  does 


'I  can  find  no  ground  wbiitever  for  Ferrier's  asserliou  that  no 
presentation  can  be  voluuturily  attended  to  that  cauuot  be  visually 
pictured.  It  is  easy  to  fixate  the  eyes  on  a  point  and  at  the  same  time 
follow  a  tune  through  mentally,  or  to  think  of  a  single  note  without  the 
"  indirect  picturing  of  the  source,  instrument,  circumstances"  which 
Ferrier  thinks  necessary  {Functions  of  the  Brain,  2d  ed.,  p.  464).  Dar- 
win is  much  truer  in  saying  {Expr.  of  Emotion,  2d  ed.,  p.  239):  "  The 
expression  of  a  person  sunk  in  thought  is  especially  remarkable  for  the 
undetermined  direction  of  the  eyes" — the  opposite  of  visual  attenlion. 
Nor  is  there  sufficient  ground  for  the  view  that  the  intellectual  pictur- 
ing of  an  object  in  attention  is  always  brought  about  through  the  revival 
of  muscular  experiences  (Ribot,  N.  Lange.  PJdlos.  Stndien,  iv).  Since 
muscular  experiences  involve  space,  and  spacial  experiences  are  most 
representable.  it  is  true  that  many  revivals  are  suggested  by  muscular 
revivals :  but  the  evidence  does  not  show  that  it  is  always  so.  Cf. 
James'  interestinij  treatment  of  preperceptii)n — the  apperceptive 
preparation  of  mind  for  the  assimilation  of  a  new  object.  Loc.  cit.,  i. 
pp.  438  ff. 


EFFECTS  OF  VOLITION.  377 

to  mental  excitement.  Tbey  are,  moreover,  common  to 
reflex  and  voluntary'  attention  and  can  be  artificially 
produced.  A  brainless  animal  can  be  stimulated  in  such 
a  way  as  to  show  the  expression  of  high  attention. 

Effects  Proper.  The  more  legitimate  eflfects  of  volun- 
tary attention  are  the  muscular  contractions  and  inhibi- 
tions which  follow  it.  Attempts  are  being  made  to  bring 
these  also  under  the  conquest  of  artificial  production  : 
the  belief  being  that  volition  as  a  self-determining  thing 
will  then  go  to  the  wall.  Fere  claims '  that  the  increase 
in  force,  rapidit}-,  and  precision  of  movements  voluntarily 
attended  to  may  be  brought  about  by  mechanical  means 
(weights,  high  air-pressure,  lying  posture,  etc.),  the 
additional  force  coming  from  other  parts  of  the  system. 
Beclard  contends  that  the  extremest  muscular  tension 
is  found  in  the  immobility  or  static  contraction  charac- 
teristic of  voluntary  attention,  and  that  the  attention  is 
this  extreme  expenditure  of  nervous  force :  he  points  to 
the  fact  that  the  difi^usion  and  repose  of  attention  is  at 
once  the  relaxation  of  all  muscular  contraction  down  to 
the  complete  inactivity,  on  both  sides,  seen  in  sleep.' 
Loeb '  and  others  find  that  when  definite  motor  centres 
are  destroyed  there  is  a  prolonged  period  of  inertia  in 
the  limbs  afiected  ;  more  voluntary  efibrt  has  to  be  made 
to  move  them  :  this  is  held  to  indicate  that  effort  is  the 
drawing  of  nervous  force  from  other  regions. 

As  to  the  experimental  endeavor,  there  is  no  reason 
that  it  should  not  be  to  some  degree  successful.*  Why 
should  not  there  be — indeed  must  tliere  not  be? — a 
physical  antecedent  to  every  such  physical  change ;  and 
why  may  not  physiology  in  some  cases  discover  it?  Bui 
when  there  is  such  an  artificial  production  of  the  effects 

'  Revue  Philosopldque,  Oct.  1890. 

'  Ibid.,  p.  401. 

3  Pfliiger's  Archiv,  xxxix. 

*  Cf.  above.  Chap.  1.  S  '^,  3. 


378  VOLITION. 

of  attention,  what  does  it  prove  concerning  volition  ?  It 
only  proves  that  conservation  holds  in  brain-activities,  a 
position  readily  enough  admitted.  Volition  might  be 
the  one  law  of  mental  development  still,  on  either  of 
the  hypotheses  already  advanced  to  explain  the  relation 
of  consciousness  to  the  nervous  system.' 

Physical  Control.  The  extremely  complex  system  of 
checks  and  counter-checks  which  we  call  physical  control, 
in  adult  life,  has  had  a  slow  development.  Assuming 
the  directive  influence  of  consciousness,  becoming  expli- 
cit in  the  early  efibrts  of  an  infant,  we  find  that  it  avails 
itself  of  the  general  sensori-motor  law  already  noted  un- 
der the  head  of  suggestion.  The  basis  of  all  consists  in 
spontaneous,"  reflex,^  and  instinctive  *  movements.  Such 
movements,  when  painful,  tend  to  subside  by  the  immedi- 
ate inhibitive  effect  of  pain.  When  pleasurable,  by  a 
parallel  law,  they  tend  to  continue.  Thus  a  link  is 
formed  between  sensation  and  movement  whereby  mem- 
ories of  pleasures  and  pains  become  stimulants  to  adap- 
tive reactions.  Such  a  primitive  law  of  self-preservation 
is  seen  in  lower  orders  of  life,  where  there  is  no  delibera- 
tive choice,  and  where  the  conditions  are  such  that  a  very 
narrow  range  of  adaptations  suffices  to  continue  the 
creature's  existence.  But  with  the  human  infant  this  is 
altogether  insufficient.'  The  extraordinary  complexity  of 
the  life  for  which  he  is  destined  renders  necessary  a  mus- 

'  Above,  Chap.  XV.  §  2. 

^  Bain. 

'  Lotze,  Spencer,  Schneider  :  for  a  discussion  of  the  rise  of  voluntary 
inhibition  of  reflexes,  with  experimental  evidence,  see  Preyer,  loc.  cit., 
I.  pp.  227-31. 

*  Sully  :  see  his  good  discussion,  Outlines,  pp.  397  ff.  Schneider's 
view  really  approximates  Sully's,  since  the  former  derives  reflexes  from 
reactions  originally  accompanied  by  feeling. 

'  Against  Bain,  to  wlioin  the  development  so  far  is  due.  Senses 
and  Intellect,  pp.  301-11  ;  Emotions  and  Will,  pp.  303-379. 


MORAL   CONTROL.  379 

cular  pliability  whicli  caunot  wait  upon  the  exigencies 
of  accidental  or  instinctive  motor  experience.  Hence 
liis  long  infancy  is  spent  in  strenuous  effort.  To  his 
natural  aversion  to  pain  he  adds  deliberate  contrivance 
to  avert  it ;  to  suggestion  he  adds  persistent  imitation  ; 
to  experience  he  adds  voluntary  experiment.  And  all 
his  education  is  supported  by  instruction  from  without. 
The  muscular  system  is  thus  brought  under  voluntary 
control  generally,  so  far  as  to  subserve  the  demands  of 
life  ;  and  in  particular  directions,  farther,  as  employment 
or  preference  demands  it. 

Such  control  extends  to  the  inhibition  in  part  of  many 
reflex  functions,  such  as  coughing,  sneezing,  sluA^ering, 
etc.,'  in  some  few  instances  to  the  automatic  processes, 
and  tends  to  break  up  instincts  and  dispose  their  elements 
differently.  Only  those  muscles  are  available  for  will 
which  have  organic  connection  with  the  cerebrum.  Some 
of  the  available  muscles  of  the  body,  however,  never  come 
under  voluntary  control,  because  they  are  not  of  use. 
For  example,  the  muscles  of  the  ear  may  be  made  avail- 
able for  moving  the  ear  voluntarily  after  repeated  effort. 

Moral  Control.^  Similarly  the  impulses  and  desires 
are  brought  under  a  law  of  reasonable  activit}'.  The 
lawless  indulgences  of  childhood  partly  correct  them- 
selves by  their  natural  penalties.  But  in  this  spliere 
conflicts  between  immediate  and  remote  results  render 
the  pleasures  and  pains  of  experience  altogether  inade- 
quate as  a  guide  of  life.  The  balancing  of  results  which 
is  the  slow  work  of  prudence  is  supplemented  by  the 
counsels  and  forced  precepts  of  teacher  and  parent. 
0])edience  is  the  schoolmaster  to  self-restraint.  And 
gradually  reverence  for  persons  becomes  reverence  for 


'  Orchansky,  Arch,  fur  Anat.  u.  Phys.,  1889,  p.  179. 
■'  See  Baiii's  excellent  reinarka,  Euwtions  and  Will,  chap,  ix,  and  the 
remarks  on  impulse  above,  Chap.  III.  tj  2. 


380  VOLITION. 

moderation,  and  obedience  passes  into  prudential  control. 
Moral  control  is  in  its  development  closely  connected 
■with  prudential ;  but,  as  has  been  seen  above,  it  finds  its 
law  of  operation  in  the  moral  imperative  which  sets  its 
own  type  of  obedience  and  administers  its  own  sanctions. 
Further,  just  as  physical  control  passes  into  the  state 
of  subconscious  innervation  and  contraction  necessary 
for  the  uprightness,  due  balancing,  and  habitual  adjust- 
ments of  the  body,  so  with  mental  and  moral  control. 
The  well-harmonized  mental  life  is  a  life  of  regulated  flow : 
imagination  is  adjusted  to  fact,  association  held  in  to  the 
requirements  of  logical  procedure,  emotion  restricted  to 
its  due  impelling  influence,  will  moderated  by  delibera- 
tion. All  this  is  a  gradual  outcome,  and  the  final  result 
takes  its  coloring  from  the  degree  of  mental  equilibrium 
we  consciously  attain  by  our  individual  choices  and 
efi'orts.  Volitions  conform  more  and  more  to  the  rule  of 
a  guiding  intention,  right  or  wrong.  Just  as  in  the 
sphere  of  sensuous  feeling  there  is  a  fund  of  common 
fixed  sensibility,  coentesthesis ;  so  in  the  mental  sphere 
we  find  a  similar  fund  of  relatively  permanent  will-stim- 
ulus, a  conceptual  coentesthesis,  so  to  speak,  or  tempera- 
ment. Thus,  also,  moral  choices  become  habitual,  and 
lightness  of  choice  passes  into  virtue  of  character. 

It  is  in  the  disintegration  of  these  vohmtary  motor  intui- 
tions and  the  loss  of  the  inhibitions  on  wliich  they  depend^ 
that  disease  of  the  will  takes  its  rise.  Its  first  manifestation  is 
lack  of  control  in  one  way  or  another.  It  may  be  due  either 
to  a  diminution  of  the  inhibitive  process  in  some  special  brain- 
area,  or  to  a  decay  of  the  co-ordinating  and  selecting  function 
as  a  whole.  Tendencies  toward  impulsive  and  capricious 
action,  the  reign  of  fixed  ideas  and  monomanias,  of  suicide 
and  murder,  kleptomania,  dipsomania,  etc.,  all.  these  are 
exaggerated  instances  of  what  we  all  feel  in  the  "irritation" 
of  extreme  fatigue,  and  the  sudden  promptings  of  impulse 
which  we  are  able  to  control  but  not  to  silence.*    The  opposite 

'  See  Ribot,  Diseases  of  the  Will,  and  James,  loc.  cit.,  ii.  pp.  537-546, 
for  references. 


RATIONAL  ASPECTS  OF  VOLITION.  381 

tendency  is  seen  in  the  so-called  "insanity  of  doubt;"  a  con- 
dition in  wiiicli  the  inhibitive  process  is  so  developed  that  no 
mental  decision  is  ever  sufficient  for  confident  action.  Tins 
again  may  take  the  form  of  general  apathy  and  laissez-faire  ; 
or  it  may  be  confined  to  a  particular  reaction  or  choice,  as  in 
patients  Avho  are  never  sure  on  a  point  of  question  or  matter 
of  fact,  but  return  to  it  again  and  again  in  abnormal  repeti- 
tion/ 


§  6.  Eational  Aspects  of  Volition. 

Intuition  of  Power.  The  rise  of  the  intuition  of  power 
has  already  been  briefly  indicated.*  The  above  analysis 
of  effort  reveals  to  us  the  concrete  fact — voluntary  atten- 
tion— in  which  it  ultimately  rests.  Whatever  their 
metaphysical  validity  may  or  may  not  be,  we  reach  the 
ideas  of  self-agency  and  other-agency  through  efforts  of 
our  own  against  resistances.  Just  as  space  and  time  are 
revealed  as  intuitions  through  intellectual  s^^nthesis,  and 
just  as  ideals  are  felt  apprehensions  of  truths  which  lie 
beyond  intellectual  construction,  so  in  volition  we  must 
recognize  a  regulative  principle  of  agency,  or  poiver, 
which  is  the  essence  of  experiences  characterized  by  the 
term  "will." 

Intuition  of  Obligation.  The  categorical  nature  of 
the  feeling  of  obligation  has  also  been  noted  above.^  We 
found  that  duty  was  imperative  and,  in  its  form  of  com- 
mand, universal.  Given  the  right,  the  must  of  our  obli- 
gation to  perform  it  is  the  most  unequivocally  binding 
thing  that  we  mortals  know.  In  other  words,  obligation 
is  a  regulative  and  constitutive  principle  of  the  activity 
of  will. 

On  volition,  consult :  James,  loc.  cit.,  ll.  chap,  xxvi,  and  his  rnfer- 
ences ;   Hoffding,    Outlines,    vii,   A  and  li ;   Volknianii,  Le/irbuch, 


'  An  example  is  given  by  Kniipp,  Amer.  Journ.  Payeh.,  in.  p.  1. 
'  Sennen  <ui,d  Inlellecl,  chap.  xv.  ^  5. 
2  Cliup.  IX.  g  7. 


382  VOLITION. 

§§147-49;  Rabier,  PsycJwIocfie,  chap,  xxxviri;  Sergi,  Psych.  Pliys.y 
liv.  V.  chaps,  iv-v;  Green,  Prolegomena  to  Ethics.,  bk.  ii.  chaps,  i-ii; 
Schneider,  Mensch.  Wille,  chap,  xiii;  Sully,  Outlines,  chap,  xiv; 
Spencer,  Psychology,  part  iv,  chap,  ix,  and  Essays  (1868),  vol.  i.  pp. 
300-324;  Bain,  Emotions  and  Will,  part  ii.  chaps,  ii-vii;  Ward, 
loo.  cit. ;  James  Mill,  Analysis,  chaps,  xxii-xxiv;  Drbal,  Lehrbuch, 
§§  137-43;  Perez,  First  Three  Years,  chap,  xii;  Carpenter,  Ment. 
Phys.,  b.  I.  chap,  ix,  2,  3,  4;  Garnier,  Traite  des  Faciiltes  de  VAme, 
bk.  V;  Fere,  Physiologic  de  V Attention,  Revue  Philos.,  1890;  Wundt, 
Philos.  Studien,  i,  p.  337  flf.;  (Moral  Control)  refs.  by  Dewey,  P*^?/- 
chology,  p.  416;  Morell,  Outlines,  pt.  vi;  Fortlage,  System  der  Psych., 
§§  86-94;  Edwards,  Inquiry  into  the  Will;  Fouillee,  La  Liberie  et  le 
Determinisme.  See  also  the  references  on  "  voluntary  movement" 
at  the  end  of  the  preceding  chapter. 

Further  Problems  for  Study  : 

Nature  and  limits  of  responsibility  and  freedom; 

Physical  process  of  volition; 

Theories  of  volition; 

Philosophical  implications  of  the  doctrine  of  volition. 


APPENDIX  A. 


EDUCATIONAL  PSYCHOLOGY:   BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

The  following  references  on  the  applications  of  psycho- 
logical truths,  in  the  training  of  the  youthful  mind,  may  be 
of  service  to  teachers.  What  teachers  need  is  not  a  "system 
of  pedagogy,"  but  a  living  and  sympathetic  knowledge  of 
children.  The  following  titles  are  selected  from  a  great 
many,  both  because  they  are  accessible,  and  because  the  writer 
has  found  them  suggestive. 

On  Educational  Fsijchology :  Sully,  Outlines  of  Psychology 
(in  locis)  ;  Kadestock,  Habit  and  its  Importance,  in  Educa- 
tion ;  Compayre,  Lectures  on  Pedagogy  ;  Froebel,  Educatimi 
of  Man ;  Guja,u,  Education  and  Heredity;  Buiu,  Education 
as  a  Science ;  Perez,  V Education  des  le  Berceau  ;  Egger, 
De  V  Intelligence  et  du  Lang  age  cliez  les  En/ants;^  de  Saus- 
sure,  U Education  progressive;  Lauge,  Ueher  Apperception ; 
Barth,  Ueber  den  Umgang ;  Pfisterer,  Pddagogische  Psycho- 
logic ;  Wiese,  Die  Bildung  des  Willens  ;  Kosenkranz,  Phi- 
losophy of  Education;  McLellan,  Applied_  Psychology ; 
Marion,  Psychologic  appliquee  a  V Education ;  Rosmini, 
Method  in  Education ;  Hopkins,  Educational  Psychology  ; 
T&te,  Philosophy  of  Education  (cd.  Sheib)  ;  Warner,  Zee/! ?/ res 
on  Mental  Faculty ;  Baldwin,  hifant  Psychology,  Science, 
XVI  (1890),  p.  351  ff.;  Yeomans,"(7M/^?^re  of  the  Observing 
Powers  of  Children  ;  Hall,  Education  of  the  Will,  Princeton 
Revieio,  1882. 

General  Worlcs  on  Pedagogy  :  Hcrbart,  PddagogiTc  ( Werke, 
ed.  Hartenstein,  vols.  10  and  11);  \Ysiitz,  Allge7neine  Pddago- 
gik  ;  Spencer,  On  Education;  Fitch,  Lectures  on  Teaching; 
Johonnot,  Principles  and  Practice  of  Teaching ;  Thring, 
Theory    and  Practice  of  Teaching ;    Memeyer,    Grundsdize 


'  I  am  informed  that  aa  English   translation   of  this  work   is  in 

prepanilion. 

883 


384  APPENDIX  B. 

der  Erziehung ;  Striimpel,  Psychologisclie  Pddayogih ; 
Schultze,  Ucbersiclit  ilber  Pudagogik ;  Schumann,  Lchrbucli 
der  Pddagogik  (esp.  vol.  ii)  ;  Browning  (Oscar),  Introduc- 
tion to  Educational  Theories  and  Aspects  of  Education; 
Quick,  Essays  on  Educational  Reformers;  Sidgwick  (A.), 
Lectures  on  Education  ;  FrOhlich,  Wissenschaftliclie  Pddago- 
gik. 

Bibliographies  of  Education  :  Diesterweg.  Wegweiser  zur 
Bildung  (5tii  ed.)  ;  Hall  and  Mansfield,  Bibliography  of 
Education  {to  1876  :  has  many  minor  errors);  Bibliography  in. 
Pddagog.  Jahresbericht,  1885  ;  Ollenden,  Bibliographie  de 
VEnseignement  primaire  (esp.  vol.  ill,  Monographies  pdda- 
gogiques,  Paris,  1889)  ;  Sonneuschein's  Cyclopedia  of  Educa- 
tion (ed.  Fletcher,  1889). 


APPENDIX  B, 


DREAM-EXCITATION. 

The  direct  influence  of  slight  sense-stimuli  upon  the  flow 
and  make-up  of  our  dream-consciousness  is  a  well-known 
fact,  which  can  be  proved  by  artificial  experiment  (see 
Maury,  Le  Sommeil  et  les  Reves,  p.  133  ff.),  but  which  it  is 
difficult  to  confirm  under  ordinary  circumstances,  since  w'e 
seldom  waken  after  a  well-marked  dream-experience  m  time 
to  catch  the  stimulus,  or  witliout  altering  the  stimulus  by 
movement,  etc.  On  the  night  of  October  22d,  1  had  a  dream 
which  perfectly  fulfilled  the  conditions  of  this  experiment.  I 
fell  asleep  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  found  myself  with  a  com- 
panion in  a  wood,  watching  a  num!)er  of  wood-cutters  at 
work.  After  looking  at  them  tor  some  time,  one  of  the 
workmen  drew  my  attention  quite  suddenly  by  giving  forth  a 
strange  sound,  half-musical  and  half-speech,  by  which  he 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  express  something  to  his  neighbor  ; 
and  the  sound  came  with  every  blow  of  his  axe  in  regular 
rhythm.  The  sound  seemed  to  me  distinctly  faniiliar  and 
yet  very  strange,  and  I  turned  to  my  friend  and  said,  ''  What 
an  apology  for  conversation  !"  Just  as  I  spoke  I  awoke,  and 
tlie  sound  of  the  peculiar  tone  of  a  clock  down-stairs  striking 
twelve  broke  in  upon  my  consciousness.  The  four  remaining 
strokes  of  the  clock  preserved  exactly  the  rhythm  of  the  wood- 

>  From  Science,  vol.  xii  (1888),  No.  300. 


APPENDIX  a  385 

choppor's  axe  ;  and  not  only  so,  but  tlie  sense  of  familiarity 
which  had  puzzled  me  in  the  dream  was  relieved  with  a  glow 
of  pleasure  as  I  recognized  the  sound  of  the  clock. 

This  experience  illustrates  also  the  remarkable  swiftness 
with  which  new  sensations  are  assimilated  to  the  character  of  \  ~^ 
a  previous  dream-con»ciousness.  Before  the  clock  began,  the 
men  were  simply  cutting,  without  ord^r  or  distinction.  But 
when  the  sound  broke  in  it  was  at  once  accaiiunodated  to  the 
scene  by  important  modifications.  One  workman^  is  siugletl 
out :  he  begins  to  ply  his  axe  in  the  regular  time  of  the  cluck- 
beats,  and  to  give  forth  a  sound  which  preserves  in  its  gen- 
eral character  the  peculiarities  of  the  real  sound.  Now,  since 
I  experienced  in  the  dream  no  less  than  four  beats,  as  the 
rhythm  was  perfectly  established  and  clear  in  my  conscious- 
ness, and  there  remained  four  beats  after  I  awoke,  this  whole 
accommodation  must  have  taken  place  in  the  interval  between 
the  first  and  the  fifth  beat  (for  it  was  then  twelve  o'clock). 
I  have  since  measured  the  iiiterval  between  the  strokes  of  the 
clock,  and  find  it  to  be  two  seconds.  The  whole  time  from 
the  first  to  the  fifth  beat  was  therefore  eight  seconds.  From 
this  should  be  taken  the  time  occupied  by  the  dazed  state 
between  dreaming  and  waking, — say,  at  least,  an  interval  of 
from  two  to  four  seconds.  There  remains  a  period  of  four 
to  six  seconds  as  the  time  of  accommodation.  This  may  be 
called,  in  a  very  rough  way,  the  reaction  time  for  a  complex 
case  of  constructive  imagination  ;  for  the  constructive  imagi- 
nation is  nothing  more  than  the  free  play  of  images  in  forms 
of  ideaf  composition,  due  to  the  influx  of  additions  from  the 
sensorium.  There  is  no  direct  way  of  measuring  this  time  in 
the  waking  state,  since  the  attention  interferes  with  the  pro- 
cess. 


APPENDIX  C. 


NUMBER  FORMS. 

A  NUMBER  of  instances  of  Mr.  Galton's  "Number  Forms" 
have  been  reported  to  the  writer.  "^I'lie  arcompauyiiig  cut 
(see  next  page),  kindly  drawn  out  with  great  care  by  Mr. 
Courteney  Thorpe,  of  Boston,  the  gifted  actor,  may  serve  to 
illustrate  the  poculiarity.  'V\\q  following  dcsc-ription  fmm 
Galton  must  suffice  hei-e.  The  readei-  will  find  the  subject 
amply  discussed  in  his  book. 


386 


APPENDIX  a 


12 


10 


/ 


100 


;*90- 


ff 


,80»~ 


y 


^•eo— ^'- 


./ 


^0 


..«-*^ 


^\ 


io_ 


'  Number  Form"  op  Mr,  Courtenkt  Thorpe. 


APPENDIX   C.  387 

"  The  peculiarity  iu  question  is  found,  speaking  very 
roughly,  in  about  1  out  of  every  30  adult  males  and  15 
females.  It  consists  in  the  sudden  and  automatic  appearance 
of  a  vivid  and  invariable  '  form '  in  the  mental  field  of 
view,  whenever  a  numeral  is  thought  of,  and  in  which  each 
numeral  has  its  own  definite  place.  This  form  may  consist 
of  a  mere  line  of  any  shape,  or  a  peculiarly  arranged  row  or 
rows  of  figures,  or  of  a  shaded  space."  '  Among  Americans, 
the  "  forms"  seem  to  be  much  rarer  than  Galton's  figures 
(1  in  30  and  1  in  15)  would  lead  us  to  expect. 

>  Inquiries  into  Human  Faculty,  pp.  114  fl. 


THE  END. 


INDEX. 


Accommodation— law  of  nervous 
a.,  49. 

Activity — emotions  of,  175  f. 

Adjustment — as  basis  of  tone,  124  ; 
emotions  of,  176. 

Esthetic— a.,  feeling,  233  ff. ;  a. 
judgment,  241. 

Affect— the  a.,  313  ff.,  354. 

Allen  (Grant) — on  pleasure  and 
pain,  128. 

Alternatives— feeling  of,  359. 

Anmsthesia  (101). 

Analgesia  (101). 

Analogies — of  mental  and  nervous 
function,  66  ff. 

Apperception — volitional  a.,  355. 

Appetence  (323  f.). 

Aristotle— iheoxy  of  pleasure  and 
pain,  131. 

Ascidian — n.  system  of,  16. 

Association — a.  tracts,  12-13;  fig- 
ure of,  14;  nervous  vs.  mental 
a.,  68  f. ;  a.  in  interest,  145;  a. 
theory  of  refle.x  attention,  289. 

Attention — feeling  of  reflex  a.,  288 
ff. 

Automatic — a.«  reactions,  29;  sec- 
ondary a.  reactions,  31. 

Avenion  (330  f.). 

Bain— on  unity  of  consciousness, 
81;  on  pleasure  and  pain,  133, 
276;  on  belief,  172;  onsympathy. 


192;  on  fundamental  emotions, 

252;  theory  of  volition,  344, 
Bastian — on   innervation-feelings, 

349. 
Beaunis — on  motor  consciousness, 

39;  on  muscular  feelings,    109; 

on  innervation-feelings,  349. 
Beclard — on  "static  contraction," 

338. 
Belief  {\baS..)—b.  and  doubt,  155 

f. ;  b.  in  external  reality,  160  f.; 

in    memory,     163     f. ;     b.     in 

thought,  167;  emotional  b.,  168; 

references  on,  173. 
Bell — on     emotional     expression, 

250. 
BiancM — on  motor  stimulation,  39. 
Brentano—oa  belief,  158,  172. 
Broadbent — on  nervous  action,  21. 
Broicn-Sequard— on    function    of 

hemispheres,  41. 
Butler — on  moral  authority,  212. 

Carpenter — on  second  automatic 

reactions,  32. 
Central — c.    elements  of  nervous 

system,  15  f. 
Ce7'ebellar-ira.cts,  9. 
Character  (363  11.). 
Choice  (352  flE.). 

Classification — of  feelings,  88. 
Column — sensory  c,  8  1T. ;   motor, 

10  f.;  lateral,  11. 

389 


390 


INDEX. 


CormstJiesis  (99). 

Conscience  (238  f.). 

Consciousness — nervous  conditions 
of,  51  ff. ;  kinds  of,  58  ff. ;  pas- 
sive c,  58  f.;  reactive  c,  60  f. ; 
apperceptive  and  motor  c,  63; 
voluntary,  63  ff. ;  c.  and  reten- 
tion, 66  f.;  specific  connection 
and  c,  68  f. ;  summation  and  c, 
69;  c.  and  iuLiibition,  69  f. ; 
unity  of,  73  ff. ;  split-up  c,  81; 
motor  c,  280  ff. 

Consent — as  feeling,  64,  339. 

Content— exnoWons,  of,  177  f. 

Contrast — phenomena  of,  91  f., 
245. 

Control— xo\\inlhvy  c.  378  ff. 

Oortea;— functions  of,  40  ff. 
^  Criterion — of  mind,    52;    of    sen- 
tience,  56;    of  external  reality, 
160  ff. 

Darwin— on  sympathy,  188;  on 
emotional  expression,  250. 

Deliberation — feeling  of,  64,  357. 

Descartes — on  pleasure  and  pain, 
132. 

Desire  (320  ff.)— references  on,  333. 

Determinism — of  will,  370  f. 

Diffusion — nervous,  21;  d.  of  pain, 
116  f.;  of  emotion,  254. 

Division — of  ideal  feelings,  173  ff. 

Domrich  —on  passive  conscious- 
ness, 58. 

Doubt — d.  vs.  belief,  155  f. 

Dream — d.  excitation,  384. 

Dumont — on  pleasure  and  pain, 
129;  on  indifference,  278. 

Duration — of  emotion,  263  f. 

Dynamogenesis  —  nervous,  28; 
mental,  281. 

Educational — e.  psychology,  ref- 
erences, 383. 
Effects— ot  volition,  376  ff. 


Effort— UGWng  of,  64,  334  ff.,  863. 

Electrical — e.  feelings.  111. 

Electricity — analogy  with  nerve- 
action,  19. 

Emotion  (174  ff.)— of  activity,  174 
f.;  of  content,  177  f.;  of  self,  179 
f. ;  objective  e.  ,180ff. ;  expres- 
sive e.,  182 ff.;  sympathetic,  186; 
representative,  193;  references 
on,  194,  243,  265;  of  relation, 
195  ff.;  logical,  196  f. ;  concep- 
tual, 198  ff. ;  expression  of,  249 
ff. ;  brain  seat  of,  255;  duration 
of,  263  f . 

End-organs,  (7). 

Engelmann — on  protozoa,  18. 

Ethical — e.  feeling,  205 ff.;  e.  judg- 
ment, 227. 

Evolution — law  of,  50. 

Excitement— ieeWng  as  e.,  244  f. 

Expenditure— feeling  of,  108,  286. 

Exploration — interest  as  e.,  141. 

Expression — emotional,  249  ff. 

Extensity — of  feeling,  98.- 

External — e.  reality-belief,  160  ff. 


Fatigue  (107  f . ;  287). 

Feeling— comvnon  f.,  86,  89  ff. ;  de- 
finition of,  85;  extensity  of,  98 
f. ;     common    sensuous,    99  ff. ; 
organic,  100  f. ;  cutaneous,  100, 
102;    muscular,     100,    102    ff.; 
nervous,  100,  109  f. ;  kiusesthctic, 
103  ff. ;  innervation,  106  ff. ;  ideal 
f.,  135  ff".;  special  ideal,  174  ff. 
social,  193;  f.  for  system,  204  f. 
ethical,  205  ff.;  aesthetic,  233  ff. 
references  on,  194,  243;  table  of, 
243;    quantity   of,    244    ff . ;    of 
alternatives,    359;    of    freedom, 
369  ff.;  of  responsibility,  375. 

Ferrier — on  lateral  columns.  11; 
on  optical  centre,  39;  on  pleas- 
ure and  pain,  130. 

Fiat— of  will.  334  ff. 


INDEX. 


391 


Fortlage — on  interest,  148. 
Foster — on  motor  tracts,  9. 
Freedom— oi  the  will,  369  ff. 

Galton — on  character  and  hered- 
ity, 367. 

Ganglion — structure  of,  16. 

George — on  interest,  148. 

Golgi — on  nerve-cells,  6. 

Goltz — exper.  on  brainless  animals, 
35. 

Green  (T.  H.)— on  passive  con- 
sciousness, 59;  on  atoms  of  sen- 
sation, 96;  on  sympathy,  192. 

Habit — nervous,  24;  law  of,  49; 
interest  arising  from,  145;  h. 
and  movement,  331;  h.  and 
choice,  361. 

Hamilton  (Sir  Wm.) — on  pleasure 
and  pain,  131  f. 

EedonLvn  (216  ff). 

Helmholtz — on  contrast,  92. 

Herhart — division  of  emotions,  52. 

neredity  (81  f.). 

Herzen — on  conditions  of  con- 
sciousness, 54  f. 

Hi» — on  nerve-cells,  6. 

Hodgson — on  ideal  feeling,  136; 
on  belief,  159,  172;  on  obliga- 
tion; 222;  on  aesthetic  relations, 
235. 

Hofding — on  sensations,  96;  on 
sympathy,  191;  on  indifference, 
278. 

Horns — of  spinal  cord,  16. 

Horwicz — tlK.iiry  of  attention,  341. 

Hume — on  knowledge,  43 ;  on 
atoms  of  sensation,  95;  on  belief, 
164. 

Uyper<estJi£sia  (101). 

Ideals — construction  and  nature 

off.  198  ff. 
Imitation — suggestion  b}'  i.,  299. 


Impulse  (304  ff.,  322  ff.,  315). 

I/ideterminism — of  will.  369. 

Inheritance — Law  of,  50. 

InJiibition — nervous,  35  ff. ;  mental, 
69  ff. 

Initiation — of  motives,  367  f. 

Innervation — feelings  of,  106  ft'., 
348. 

Instinct  (308  ff.). 

Integration — nervous,  23  f.;  1.  and 
tone,  122. 

Interest — as  feeling,  139  ff. ;  Anal- 
ogy from,  49;  i.  and  belief,  172; 
as  will-stimulus,  316  f. 

Intuition — feeling  as  i.,  202;  i.  of 
power  and  obligation,  881. 

Intuitionalism — of     ethical     end. 

Irritability — nervous,  18  ff. 

James  (Wm.) — on  criterion  of 
mind,  52;  on  theory  of  sensa- 
tion, 96;  on  reality-feeling,  150; 
on  belief,  172;  on  emotional  ex- 
pression, 256;  on  instinct,  311; 
on  effort,  342;  on  innervation- 
feelings,  349. 

Janet  (Pierie) — on  emotional  ex- 
pression, 257. 

lessen — on  fundamental  emotions, 
251;  on  passion,  257;  on  im- 
pulse, 307;  on  desire,  317. 

Judgment— movii\,  227;  (Esthetic, 
242. 

Kant— on  atoms  of  sensation,  86; 

on  pleasure  and  pain,  132  f . ;  on 

moral      imperative,      210;      on 

ethical  end,  223. 
Ki7i(jesthetic—k.  feelings,  103  ff. 
Knowledge — sensation  and  k.  93  ff. 
Kdlliker — on  sensory  cells,  40;  on 

nerve-counectiuns,  6. 

Lanok  (C.)— on  emotional  expres- 
sion, 256. 


392 


INDEX. 


Law — of  nervous  habit  and  accom- 
modation, 49;  of  inheritance, 
50;  of  evolution,  50. 

Leibnitz — double-aspect  theoiy,  54. 

Lewes — conception  of  nerve-action, 
20  f. ;  on  rise  of  consciousness, 
51;  on  instinct,  311. 

Lipps — on  belief,  158. 

Lotze — on  mental  unity,  80;  on 
pleasure  and  pain,  133;  on  feel- 
ing as  intention,  204;  on  in- 
difference, 278;  theory  of  con- 
sciousness, 345. 

Martineau— on  springs  of  action, 
333. 

Maudsley — on  unity  of  conscious- 
ness, 73  fl.;  on  reduction  of 
thought,  96. 

Medulla — oblongata,  11. 

Meyer — M.'s  experiment,  91. 

Mill  (Stuart) — on  pleasure  and 
pain,  132;  on  external  reality, 
166;  on  hedonism,  218;  on  obli- 
gation, 222. 

Morgan  (L.) — on  conception,  196. 

Mosso — on  fatigue,  107. 

Motwe  (332  f.)— laws  of,  352  ff. 

Motor — unity  of  m.  consciousness, 
74;  m.  consciousness,  280  ff. 
(references  on')  293. 

Movement — involuntary,  295  9K 
voluntary,  316  ff.,  334  ff.;  reW* 
ences  on,  294,  350,  315. 

Munk — on  optical  centre,  39. 

Miinsterierg — doctrine  of  sensa- 
tion, 96,  97;  on  innervation 
feelings,  349. 

Muscular — m.  feelings,  references 
on,  112;  m.  feelings  as  criterion 
of  reality,  161. 

Neget— of  will,  334  f.,  338  f. 
Nervous — n.  feelings,  109  f. 
Neuriliiy — as    nervous    property, 
18  ff. 


Neuroglia — function  of,  5. 
Number — "  n.-forms,"  385  f. 

Obligation — feeling  of,  208;  in- 
tention of,  381. 

Orris  (S.  S.) — on  Plato's  theory  of 
pain,  130. 

Orschansky — on  physical  base  of 
will,  339,  347. 

Pain  (and  Pleasure) — 113  ff.  and 
266  ff . ;  theories  of,  127  ff . ;  re- 
ferences on,  134,  279. 

Passion  (58  f.). 

Patton  (F.  L.)— on  "the  good," 
232. 

Paulhan — on  nature  of  emotion, 
259. 

Pfluger — experiments  on  brainless 
frogs,  25;  "  avalanche  "  experi- 
ments, 20. 

Pikler — on  external  reality,  166. 

Plato — on  pleasure  and  pain,  130  f . 

Pleasure  (and  pain)— 113  ff.  and 
266  ff.;  theories  of,  127  ff. ;  refer- 
ences on,  134,  279;  as  stimuli  to 
movement,  300  ff. 

Potential— ieii\mg  of,  107,  287. 

Power — intention  of,  381. 

Preyer — on  origin  of  instinct,  311; 
on  muscular  movement,  349. 

P-inciple — ps.  of  nervous  action, 
38  ff.;  p.  of  specialization,  38  ff.; 
p.  of  indifference,  44;  of  sub- 
stitution, 45  f . ;  of  specific  ener- 
gies, 44;  of  substitution,  45  f. ; 
nervous  summation,  47  f. ;  of 
specific  connection,  47  f. 

Protozoa — irritability  of,  18. 

Purpose  (351). 

Pyramids — of  spinal  cord,  10-12. 

Rabier — on  reality-feeling,  150: 
composite  r.,  169;  self-ultimate 
r.,  170. 


INDEX. 


393 


Reaction— new oxis,  kinds  of,  38  ff. ; 
automatic,  29 ;  reflex,  30  flf . ;  vol- 
uutary,  33  ff. ;  iuhibitive,  35  ff. ; 
secondary-automatic,  31. 

Reactive — r.  consciousness,  60  f., 
285. 

Renlity — feeling  of,  148  ff.;  belief 
in  external  r.,  160  f. 

References — on  nervous  system, 
50-83;  on  classif.  of  feelings,  88; 
on  common  feeling,  112;  on 
muscular  feeling,  112;  on  pleas- 
ure and  pain,  134;  on  belief, 
173;  on  emotion,  194,  265;  on 
conceptual  feeling,  243;  on  feel- 
ing as  indifference,  279;  on 
motor  consciousness,  294;  on 
impulse,  instinct,  suggestion, 
315;  on  desire,  333;  on  voluntary 
movement,  350;  on  volition,  381. 

RejUx — reactions,  30  ff. 

Reid— on  behalf,  171. 

Relativity — of  sense-qualities,  91; 
of  pleasure  and  pain,  121,  126; 
of  feeling,  244. 

Representation — law  of  contradict- 
ory r. ,  70  f . 

Resistance— iQe\\x\g?>  of,  as  giving 
external  reality,  162. 

Responsibility — feeling  of,  375. 

Retention — nervous,  24  f. ;  r.  and 
consciousness,  66  f. 

Rhythm — of  emotion,  205. 

Ribot—dcicivme  of  sensation,  96; 
theory  of  attention,  341;  on 
function  of  con.sciousness,   348. 

Richet — on  nervous  conduction,  20. 

Robertson  ((.'room)  —  on  innerva- 
tion-feelings,  349. 

Romanes — on  protozoa,  18;  on 
reflex  reactions  of  sea-urchins, 
31;  on  criterion  of  mind,  52,  345; 
on  pleasure  and  pain,  128;  on 
conception,  190;  on  origin  of 
instinct,  310. 


Savart— S.'s  wheel,  48. 

Sclulfer — on  optical  centre,  39. 

Schneider — on  consciousness,  55; 
on  classiflcation  of  feelings,  181; 
on  emotion,  194 ;  origin  of  in- 
stinct, 310. 

Schrader — experiments  on  brain- 
less pigeons,  25. 

/Sk^— emotions  of,  179  f. 

Sensation — 89  ff". ;  s.  and  knowl- 
edge, 93  ff. 

Sensibility — s.  and  sentience,  55  f. ; 
nature  of,  84  ff.  ;  divisions  of, 
88;  references  on,  88. 

Sensory — s.  nerve  tninsmission, 
7ff. 

Sensuous — common  s.  feeling,  99 
ff .;  divisionsof  sensuous  feeling, 
300;  s.  pleasure  and  pain,  113  ff. 

Sentience — as  nervous  property,  18, 
22  ff. ;  s.  and  sensibility,  55  ff. ; 
criterion  of,  56;  s.  and  the  sub- 
conscious, 57. 

Sidgwick— on  moral  authority,  212; 
on  'intention,"  228;  on  pleas- 
ure, 276. 

Specialization — principle  of  ner- 
vous s.,  38  f. 

Specific — energy  of  nerves,  44  ; 
principle  of  s.  connection,  47  f. ; 

•;onuection  and  consciousness, 
f. 

Spencer — on  theory  of  .sensation, 
96;  on  space-perception,  59;  on 
pleasure  and  pain,  128;  on  sym- 
pathy, 192;  on  obligation,  222; 
on  origin  of  instuict,  310. 

Spinoza — on  pleasure  and  pain, 
132;  on  sympalliy,  190;  on  will, 
373. 

Spiritual — s.  theory  of  reflex  at- 
tention, 293  f. 

Spontaneity— motor  s.,  803. 

Stimulus — sinnniution  of.  47  f. ;  s. 
to   involuntary   movement,    295 


394 


INDEX. 


ff. 


to  voluntary  movement,  316 


Stout— on  belief  in  external  reality, 
166. 

Structure— of  nervous  system,  1  If. 

Subconticious — the  s.  and  sentience, 
57;  motor  value  of  the  s.,  283  f. 

Substitution— ot  nervous  function, 
45. 

Suggestion — as  motor  stimulus,  297 
f[. ;  references  on,  315;  as  will- 
stimulus,  318  f. 

Sully— on  "indifference,"  276. 

Summation — nervous  summation, 
47  f . ;  siuMM^t^m^  conscious- 
ness, ^^SH^II^^^ 

Sympathy— emoWon  of,  186  ff.; 
morals,  207. 

Theories— of  pleasure  and  pain, 
127  ff. ;  t.  of  coefficient  of  belief, 
167;  of  retlex  attention,  289  fl. 

Ulrici— on  interest,  148. 
Unity — organic  theory  of  mental 
unity,  73  ff. 


Unreality — feeling  of,  151. 
Urbantschiisch  —  on    color-percep- 
tion, 21. 
Utilitarianism  (319  ff.). 

Volition  (351  ff.)— apperception 
in  v.,  355;  refereoce.s  on,  381. 

Volkmann  (v.  Volkmar) — on  inter- 
est, 148;  on  desiie,  328. 

Voluntary — v.  nervous  reactions, 
33  ft".;  V.  consciousness,  03  ff. ; 
V.  movement,  334. 

Waitz — on  "indifference,"  277. 

Ward — on  extensity  of  feeling,  99; 
on  pleasure  and  pain,  268. 

Watson  (J.) — on  sensation,  59. 

Weber  (E.  H.)— principle  of  specific 
energies,  44. 

Wundt — double-aspect  of,  54;  on 
aesthetic  feeling,  234;  on  indif- 
ference, 278. 

Zeising— Z.'s  "golden  cut,"  236. 


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